The Insiders
by CapNicholls
Summary: The Insiders, as written as Ponyboy Curtis. A ridiculous parody of the Outsiders. You'll never be able to read the Outsiders the same way again. Dedicated to the few, the proud, the Outsiders fans. Disclaimer: I own Puppy, Dolly, and Puppy the Cat. Everyone else belongs to S. E. Hinton.
1. Chapter 1

Dedicated to all the Outsiders fans…and my wonderful editor.

THE INSIDERS

By Ponyboy Curtis

CHAPTER 1

As I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I was temporarily blinded. After I regained my vision, I started thinking about two things: Paul Newman, and French Fries smothered in ketchup.

I was wishing I had some French Fries right about then, but I guess I'd have to be content with the gallon-sized bucket of popcorn [with all the toppings: caramel, butter, fudge, sea salt…the works] and sixty-four ounce soda I'd just consumed…and gotten refills on. Hey, it was a _long_ movie.

Anyway, after my detour to the men's room, I started my trip home. It was going fine, 'til my stomach started growling five minutes later. Don't judge; when you're a teenager, your daily schedule is as follows: Eat, sleep, repeat. You should also probably exercise somewhere in there so you don't get fat, like my older brother Darry did. Oh, he isn't fat now, 'cause Mom and Dad made him get a year membership to the gym; now he's pretty buffed up. But they died a little while ago, so he doesn't really go anymore. But he does go surfing with some of his friends sometimes. I think he likes to dress up as famous people when he does it, 'cause I found a mask of one of the presidents in his closet once.

But anyways, that's why I was walking to and from the movies– it was my daily exercise. A full block-and-a-half! Way to go, me!

So I was on my way home [I figgered I'd get some deep-fried fish sticks or something when I got there] when a snazzy red sports car pulled up beside me and five rich kids got out.

One of them had a cool-looking knife in one hand, and I asked if I could see it closer.

"Sure you can," he said, then handed it to me.

I took it, looked at it, then decided I should have it.

So I ran.

And they chased me.

I was waving the knife madly around, and I accidentally nicked the side of my head.

 _Rats!_ I thought as blood dribbled onto the collar of my shirt. _This was my only nice shirt…emphasis on the 'was'…_

Long story short…I almost died. No, they didn't cut me to ribbons; I got about fifteen feet, then doubled over, gasping for breath. [Going to the movies every day and getting gallon-size buckets of popcorn every time you go will do that to you.]

They caught me within a total of seven seconds. For a whole seven _glorious_ seconds I had that beautiful knife.

The guy was a good sport about it. He smirked at me, and held out his hand for his knife. His friends behind him were doubled over, laughing like it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.

Which it probably was. I mean, could _you_ watch [without laughing] an obese greaser toddle down the sidewalk, trying steal your knife?

For a moment, I thought about pushing them all out of the way and making another run for it, but with the giant stitch in my side, I quickly dismissed that idea.

Still wheezing, I reluctantly handed the knife back to him. He looked it over for a few seconds, then smirked again. "Nice try." His friends all roared with laughter before they turned and walked back to the car, leaving me there gasping for breath.

Just then, I heard feet pounding on the pavement, and someone grabbed me and spun me around.

"Ponychild! Ponychild, art thou alright? Be thou injured?"

It was my bro, Darry. He's Shakespearian. And mean. And he's bald and looks like a duck. Okay, a _halfway_ handsome duck.

"I'm okay-" But then I decided that I might just be able to get some chili fries out of this. I started to cry. "They chased me and stole my knife."

Technically, it had been in my possession for a total of seven seconds, so I figured it wasn't lying… _too_ much.

Just then my other brother, Sodapop, ran up. He's even handsomer than Darry. I realize that ain't sayin' much, but he is good-looking. Like, _movie-star_ handsome. There's only one reason girls don't fawn all over him–

"Yo, Po-nee, U OK? Wut hapind 2 U? R U OK? Gasp!" he gasped, "U got cut!"

Yes, that's really how he talks.

Then, because he's overly emotional, he burst into tears. And yes, that's the reason girls don't swoon. Well, that and the fact that he's got this weird habit of buying shoes for kids that stand in line in front of him. Don't ask me why. He always says 'b-cuz he sed his mom wuz sik!' I didn't see what that had to do with anything, but whatever. Soda's Soda, and nothing's gonna change that. Believe me, Darry and I've tried.

Darry glared at both of us, which made me stop crying, but it made Soda bawl all the more. "I was unaware that thou had in thy possession a dagger. From whom did you acquire the fine blade?"

Oh boy…

"I– um– see– well, I…" my voice trailed off and I couldn't think of anything to say. So, instead, I changed the subject. "Aw, lookit, you made Soda cry again! That's the second time today!"

"Nay," Darry corrected me [oh, yeah; he likes telling me to neigh. I guess he thinks it's funny, since my name's _Pony_ boy], "tis the fifth time today. And he has scantly been back from his labor at the gasoline-filling station for a quarter of an hour! He is, as they say, a 'crybaby'."

We watched Soda cry for a while, then got bored and told him to man up, 'cause we were going home.

But, of course, that made him sob even harder, so Darry and I picked him up, hefted him home, and tossed him on the couch, where he curled up in a ball and cried himself to sleep.

Then somebody opened the screen door and said, "Greetings, humans, I am about to enter your premises!"

Steve Randle, Soda's best buddy [which is weird, if you think about it, 'cause Soda talks slang, and Steve talks scientific] strutted in.

Soda immediately sat up without a tear in his eye and said, "Hay, Steve! Y R U here?"

"The answer to that appears to be…" Steve thought about that one for a minute. You could almost see the calculations running through his head. "Because my parents were in want of a small human upon which they could bestow their belongings once they perished."

"No, I mea in my house?"

"Ah, that is what you meant! I came in search of a delectable sponge dessert– also known as–" Steve looked around and cupped his hand over his mouth in case someone besides us should witness him saying a non-scientific word, "– _cake_ , hoping I could find it here."

"O…we don't got nun."

"What?" Steve was shocked. "But…but…"

Apparently even science majors are at a loss for words sometimes.

"I am dreadfully sorry, sir," Darry cut in, "But, alas, we have no cake because our younger brother is…how do you say it… _tubby_ , I think is the word."

Steve was upset. "Then by all means, you should consider investing your hard-earned currency in a pass to the local workout facility!"

Darry sighed. "Alas, we are too penniless to afford such luxuries, therefore he will have to make the effort to lose his burden without clearance to the exercise facilities."

"Okay, I'm gonna go play one-man thumb wrestling now," I said, getting bored with the conversation and heading to my room.

"Nay!" I heard Darry say, and I ignored his request for me to neigh. "Thou shall play football, for thou wilst get more exercise doing that!"

"But the young adolescent will gain abnormal thumb muscle if he thumb-wrestles with himself," objected Steve.

"LOL!" Soda LOL'd.

"How 'bout I play one-man Blind Man's Bluff?" I asked.

Darry paused, then nodded. "Occupy yourself with said pastime, and hopefully, thou shalt be thin soon."

I was about to race upstairs when I got barreled over by Steve and Soda.

"Wate!" Soda yelled.

"My peer and I would like to play as well!" Steve shouted.

"But it's _one-man_ Blind Man's Bluff!" I whined.

"Nay, fool," Darry cut in, and I reluctantly gave a quite neigh. "For I hath just remembered that thou hast to do some…how do you say… _homework_? Thou must finish reading _Great Expectations_ , aye?"

I sighed. "Yeah…"

"Go to, then! Thou must read it before sundown today, or thou wilst get an 'F' in Literature this quarter!"

I gaped. "Who told you that?"

Darry went scarlet. "I…hast some…eh, _spies_ , shall we say."

"Spies?"

"Yes, you know…minions."

"You have _minions_?" I was shocked, but clearly, Darry wasn't in the mood to talk.

"Go hither to thy room, fool, and read thy book!"

Knowing it was best to leave Darry alone when he was in this kind of mood, I did as he said, and since he didn't call me down for dinner, I went to bed famished and only three chapters through _Great Expectations_.

I lead a sad, sorry life.

Next thing I knew somebody was shaking me.

"Po-nee? Y dont U wake up?"

And by the bad grammar, I could guess who it was.

"Whaddizit?"

"Im skared!"

"What? Why?"

"Its thundering outside."

I paused, waiting for more. "That's it?"

"Yup. Its 2 lowd. I dont like lowd noises!"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it? Make it stop thundering?"

Soda's eyes lit up. "Ken U do that?"

I sighed. "Man, now I know why you dropped out of school."

Immediately, Soda's eyes got teary.

I sighed again. " _Sorry_. Here," I got out of bed, walked over to a box sitting in the corner of my room, and pulled out a stuffed bear. I handed it to Soda, and his eyes lit up like a firecracker on the Fourth of July.

"Thnx, Po-nee!" He started towards the door, then stopped. "Do U think Sandee'll marree me?"

"You?" I started laughing and couldn't stop. "Sandy: a cheerleader, actress, _and_ supermodel; marry you? You, a big sixteen year-old crybaby that still sleeps with a stuffed bear?" I'd never actually talked with Sandy, a senior that went to my school, but seeing as she was Homecoming Queen and almost every guy in the school had a crush on her, Soda didn't have a chance.

I was on the floor guffawing at this point, trying to control myself.

Soda started crying again, and ran out of the room.

After I finished my laughing spree, I laid back in my bed and sighed. I'd done it again. Darry and I always seemed to make Soda cry for no reason at all.

He never cried around anyone else in the gang, just Darry and me.

Whatever. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. It wasn't _my_ problem, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Okay, before I go any farther, I should probably tell you about the rest of the gang that my brothers and I hang out with: you already know some about Steve, but what you don't know is that he invented these things called 'cell phones'. He invented them specifically for our friend Dally, who gets in trouble with the law a lot, so Dally could call us from his cell in prison. Get it? _Cell_ phone? Prison _cell…_? He only made a couple of them for us, though, because he didn't want word to get around and have someone steal his idea.

Then there's Keith Matthews, who we call Two-Bit [like the piece of money]. He's a sarcastic guy, and he's always buying something really cheap and selling it for ten times as much, or charging people for talking to him, stuff like that. Hence his nickname. He wants to get rich without actually having to get a job. And so far, his scheme is working.

Then there's Dally, the punk/rocker of the group. He wanted to have his own rock 'n roll band by the age of sixteen, and he almost did, too…till his parents found out about it. They banned him from ever singing again, and tried to put him through the police academy. Hence his hatred for the fuzz. He ran away about a year ago and now he kinda just lives wherever he can, usually in our living room, writing songs and singing his heart out. He's been in jail a few times for stealing [last time he was in for stealing from a candy store]. He talks in poetic form when he's feeling really happy, but living on the streets doesn't make your grammar so great. So his songs and poems don't always rhyme. Oh, he also has a pet goldfish named Dolly he takes with him wherever he goes. It rides in its fishbowl in the sidecar of his motorcycle. It used to ride in a saddlebag that Dally would tie onto the saddle of his horse, Negrito [or something weird like that], but then Dally's older brother, some sort of basketball freak that's as big of a money fanatic as Two-Bit, sold Negrito, and so Dally stole his friend's motorcycle and rides around on that.

Last is Johnny Cade, the second youngest of the gang. He's only five-foot two, and he's got long dark hair that falls into his face and makes it look like he doesn't have any eyebrows. His dad beats him up all the time, and his mom is always yelling at him about something. I think that's where he picked up his yelling habit. He doesn't usually say much, but when he does, he hollers it.

But anyway. Late that afternoon, while I was doing my homework, Dally called and wanted to see if any of us wanted to go see a movie at the Nightly Double. I knew he wasn't being generous– if we went, we'd have to pay– but I told him I'd go anyway, and I'd bring Johnny. I wouldn't give Johnny any say in the matter. See, Dally's not one of my favorite people ever; I'm kinda scared of him. He's got a really short temper; he's already popped me one when he was beefed about something. But he liked Johnny alright, so I figured if Dally got mad at me enough to hit me, I'd just grab Johnny and hold him in front of me. Dally wouldn't dare hurt Johnny– he's a good shin-kicker. [Johnny, that is, not Dally.]

Back to the story at hand. I snuck out of the house, knowing that Darry would make me finish my homework first if he knew I wanted to go to a movie.

I went over to Johnny's house and knocked on the door. His dad, a forty-something guy with gray stubble all over his face, [even his forehead– oh, wait; those are his eyebrows] opened the door.

"Whaddaya want?"

"Um, is Johnny here?"

"Who's askin'?"

"Curtis." It was my last name, so technically it was true. I hate giving people my first name. "I wanted to see if he wanted to hang out with me and Dally."

He scowled, then yelled back into the house. "Johnny!"

I heard someone thumping down the stairs, then Johnny shuffled over to his dad, looking at the floor and not saying anything.

"This kid wants to know if you wanna go and hang out."

"Sure."

Johnny was so quiet I barely heard him. That was odd. I'd _never_ heard him be quiet before. I guess miracles never cease.

His dad slapped him across the face, hard, and even I flinched. "Look at me when you're talkin' to me!"

Johnny jerked his head up. "I said sure."

His dad growled something undistinguishable, then shoved Johnny outside, slamming the door.

"You okay?" I asked Johnny.

He nodded, and we started to walk across the yard.

Suddenly the door opened again. "And take your dumb dog!" Johnny's dad kicked a little black lab puppy outside and it ran to Johnny, who picked it up.

He held the shaking little dog tight and screeched back at the house, "DON'T YOU KICK MY PUPPY! I LOVE MY PUPPY, DON'T YOU TOUCH 'IM OR I'LL SIC THE LAW ON YA!"

"You tell 'im, Johnny," I muttered under my breath.

Then we ran before his dad could come and sic the law on _us_.

We wandered around aimlessly for a while, then I remembered that Dally had never told us where to meet him.

So we wandered around some more, then finally, because I was about to have a cardiac arrest from all this exercise, went to get Cokes at The Dingo's.

Johnny wasn't allowed in with his puppy, and he sure wasn't gonna leave it outside, so we walked through the drive-thru. We heard the lady at the window guffawing loudly after we walked away.

I was finishing my third burger [Did I say we went to get Cokes? I meant that _Johnny_ got a Coke and _I_ got a Coke and a little snack] as we were strolling through the park. Suddenly, this blue Mustang [that's the car, not the horse, folks–I mean who ever heard of a blue horse? Get real people!] drove up– right in the grass!

I was revolted! How dare they ruin the grass in our park! They had perfectly good grass where they came from! Why did they feel the need to ruin the grass at _our_ park? Wasn't the grass at their park good enough for them to drive through?

I sat there, crushing my fries as I smoldered. Three guys got out of the car and marched up to us.

"Hi," the one in the front said. "My name's Bob, and we're from the Landscaping Club."

Oooooooooooh…so _that's_ what they were doing. It made sense now. They were _landscaping_. Tire-marks in your lawn must be 'in' right now.

Bob went on, "Me and my fellow clubbers here thought that this old park could use some renovation. And, seeing as how it's Frankenstein's birthday today, we figured we'd landscape for free."

Well, that was awfully nice of them! And to think, that all this time Darry had told Johnny 'n me to stay away from S.O.C.K. ***** s like them! I had just opened my mouth to thank them for this benevolent gesture of peace, when a thought occurred to me.

"Wait– where's your landscaping equipment?"

Bob smiled– a look that reminded me of a crocodile leering at its prey. He and his buddies took a step closer, forcing me and Johnny back. I started to get nervous.

"Boy, you greasers really are dumb. Get 'em, Randy."

I started to run for it, but then I heard Johnny scream, "SIC 'EM, PUPPY!"

I turned just in time to see Johnny's little black puppy attack the S.O.C.K.s.

Johnny and I wasted no time. We ran the other direction.

Then it started raining, so we went to the movies. We sat behind an older teenage girl that went to my school; I'd never talked to her before. She introduced herself as Vanilla Bean.

We heard a laugh behind us. We turned and saw Dally sitting there, his goldfish in the seat next to him. Dally was guffawing.

"A song on this I must write.

It's so funny– I could laugh all night!"

He started laughing again.

"A girl named Vanilla Bean,

We all thought she was mean,

Because she was a dirty S.O.C.K.-"

Vanilla swung around in her seat and gave him a left hook to the jaw.

Dally sat there, dazed.

"Because she was a dirty S.O.C.K.,"

he continued,

"She proceeded to knock off my block."

Vanilla snarled, and was about to say something, when suddenly the S.O.C.K.s we'd seen in the park came running back. But there were only two of them.

"A dog attacked Bob and he's hurt real bad!" one of them cried. "We gotta get him to the hospital!"

Vanilla gasped. "Bob!"

The three of them ran out.

Dally was confused.

"Please, boys, tell me this:

What exactly have I missed?"

Johnny was pale. "UH-OH…"

Without telling Dally what he'd missed, we high–tailed it out of there.

We ran back to my house, then split up.

I stood there for a minute, trying to catch my breath, then slowly opened our front door.

Darry pounced. "Ponychild Michael Curtis! Where hast thou been? Dost thou not care that your own kin has been worried? _Where hast thou been?_ "

"At the movies," I whispered.

Darry's eyes bulged out. " _At the-_ "

"Po-nee!" Soda cried, running down the stairs. He hugged me, then gasped. "Yur _bleeding_!"

Actually I wasn't. That red stuff on the front of my shirt was ketchup, which I had spilled while I was trying to squeeze it on my burger.

But it was too late. Soda started sobbing.

"Yur bleeding, & now yur gonna _DI!_ "

Darry's face went white. "Our brother is correct…thou hast been fatally wounded!"

I decided to play along. Anything to stay out of trouble…and maybe get a snack out of the deal. I clutched at my chest. "I…barely made it back…alive!"

Darry, for once in his life, looked worried. Suddenly, he stopped looking worried and poked me in the chest.

"Oi!" I said, "What's the big idea?"

Darry was angry. "Thou hast fooled us well," he hissed, "but no more!"

Suddenly, he pulled a pie out of thin air and smashed it in my face.

Soda's eye's looked like they were about to pop out. "Gasp!" he gasped.

I stood there for a second, shocked, then licked some of the pie off my face. It was banana cream. My eyes welled with tears. [Sensitivity kind of runs in the family… well, it skipped Darry, but you probably already figgered that out.]

I turned and ran out of the house and to the vacant lot by Johnny's house. It was clear that Darry didn't want me, and would even kill me to get out of his hair. Well, if he had any hair, that is.

 ***** _ **S.O.C.K.: Socially Outstanding Civilized Kid**_ **{pronounced: sock} [Author's note: Don't let the name fool you. They aren't any more civilized than I am.]**


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"PONYBOY? WHAT IS IT?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard someone yell my name. Then I realized it was just Johnny. He wasn't a threat. If he was really acting suspicious, I would just flop on him and squash him.

"It's Darry," I said through sobs and banana cream pie. "He smashed a pie in my face."

Johnny's face lit up. "AWESOME! I WISH I LIVED AT YOUR HOUSE!"

"No!" I started crying even harder. "I'm allergic to bananas! [And any kind of fruit or vegetable, for that matter.] Darry knows that! And he did it anyway."

Johnny pondered that. Then, being the kind-hearted, _gentle_ soul he is, said, "I KNOW! HE WAS TRYING TO KILL YOU!"

"Thanks, Johnny. You sure know how to cheer a guy up."

"THANKS! IT'S ONE OF MY SPECIALTIES!"

I sighed, then buttoned up my coat as I continued to lick pie off my face.

Johnny thought for a minute. "HEY, IF YOU'RE ALLERGIC, HOW COME YOU KEEP LICKING THE PIE OFF YOUR FACE?"

I glared. "You got anything better to eat, Bucko?"

He pondered that then shouted, "I KNOW! WE SHOULD ASK DALLY FOR SOMETHING TO EAT!"

I paused, then nodded. Dally would feed us.

Johnny and I ran as fast as we could, through deserts [AKA parking lots] and giant lakes [puddles], and climbed a mountain [up the hill to the bus stop] where we hitched a ride with a knight in shining armor [the bus man].

We reached Dally's house, one of us slightly more out of breath than the other…and no, it wasn't Johnny.

I had just reached up to knock on the door when Johnny remembered something…and he told me so.

"HEY PONYBOY! I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING! DALLY HASN'T LIVED AT HIS HOUSE FOR A YEAR! HE RAN AWAY! REMEMBER?"

I groaned. Now we'd have to look all over creation to find him.

"Alright, so we have to think like Dally…where would he be?"

"UM…ISN'T THERE A PARTY AT BUCK'S HOUSE TONIGHT?"

I didn't see what that had to do with anything…maybe he was hinting that since it was a party, there'd be food. I grinned. Johnny was great. "I think so."

"WELL, HE'S PROBABLY THERE! DALLY NEVER PASSES UP A PARTY!"

So we went that direction, towards Buck's house: across raging rivers [the stream that flows in the gutter] and wastelands [the sewer system], through wild forests [the trees lined up next to each other outside the mall] and big cities [the outskirts of town], and even outran a scandalous villain [a stray alley cat] along the way!

We finally reached Buck's house, gasping for breath. I pounded on the door, and after a few seconds, somebody opened it.

It was Buck. He scowled when he saw us. "Whaddaya kids want?"

"Coke…" I wheezed. "Need…Coke…must have…"

He scowled even more, then slammed the door shut in our faces.

I collapsed on the doorstep and looked weakly up at Johnny. "D'you…d'you think he'll get-"

"DALLY? PROBABLY…BUT THIS IS BUCK, SO MAYBE NOT."

"No! Not Dally! Coke! D'you think he'll get us Coke!"

"OH!"

Suddenly, we heard a low growl coming from the bushes. We whirled around, but we didn't see anything. I grabbed Johnny and held him in front of me, though, just in case it was Dally in a bad mood.

Then, a giant creature leapt out of the bushes and attacked Johnny!

I started to run away as soon as I heard Johnny crying. Then I realized he was just laughing and decided to stay. I looked at the monster attacking him and saw that it was just Puppy, not the Hound of the Baskervilles.

The door to the building opened, and a bottle of Coke flew out. The door slammed shut again.

I grabbed the Coke and guzzled it down without offering Johnny any. When the bottle was empty, I sighed contentedly and threw it in the bushes.

Puppy promptly went into the bushes and retrieved it.

I stretched, then said goodbye to Johnny and headed home; after all, it was my house as much as Darry's.

I had decided that, since Darry would likely smash another pie in my face, I'd sneak in through the window.

So I did. Well, I tried– but I didn't fit.

Defeated, I went through the front door. Actually, I went through the front door, but I forgot the screen door was still shut. I went straight through that, with a crash loud enough to wake up everyone in the neighborhood. Which it did. But amazingly, my brothers seemed to be the only two in the whole town that slept through it.

So, untangling myself from the screen mesh, I snuck into the house as quietly as I could.

And was promptly bashed over the head with a baseball bat.

When I came to, I saw a duck and a monster looking down at me. No, wait; it wasn't a duck and a monster, it was Darry and Soda. Soda was wearing the dragon mask he wears whenever he wants to feel brave.

"I believe thou hast the correct answer," Darry was saying to Soda. "Thou hast killed our _brother_ , not a robber."

I heard Soda sobbing.

"Yes, thou _shall_ cry, fool! Dost thou know what thou has accomplished?"

Soda shook his masked head, still weeping.

"Thou, fool, has killed our brother, and in doing so, thou has taken away something very important to myself!"

My heart grew warm. Well, what do you know; Darry actually cared about me!

I was about to open my mouth to say that I thought Darry wasn't such a bad ol' guy either…but he wasn't done yet.

"If that child dies, then the government no longer pays for our cable hookup!"

Soda suddenly stopped crying. "Thuh govurmint pays 4 thuh cable? Y?"

"Because they feel sorry for us, imbecile! We must put up with the small human all the days of our lives! However, if we park him in front of the 'tube', as you pathetic mortals call it, he will stay out of our hair. Well," he considered this. "Those of us that have hair."

I sat up and glared at him. "Keep your thought to yourself, Bucko."

His jaw dropped and Soda immediately stopped crying.

"Yur alive!" Soda promptly burst into tears again and hugged me.

"Can't…breathe…" I gasped.

"Sorree." He let go of me and I stood up, and on my way to my room, I caught a look at Darry's face. Was it my imagination, or did he actually look relieved?

Nah; it was my imagination. I must not be getting enough sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The next morning, I woke refreshed and ready to take on the world.

I guess the world thought I meant it literally, because the outer space mobile that hangs above my bed broke and Earth hit me on the head.

So after being dazed for a few minutes, I went downstairs where my slaves– er, my _brothers_ were making me breakfast.

"Po-nee!" Soda yelled gleefully, "I mayd brekfist 4 U!"

Oh, rats. Soda had cooked, not Darry.

He plopped a plate of… _something_ on the table in front of me.

He stood there beaming. "See? Its a pankake in thuh shape uv a smilee face."

It looked halfway edible, so I ate. And ate. And ATE.

Finally, Soda told me that I'd finished the pancake and was eating the Styrofoam plate.

Huh. They'd tasted the same to me. Actually, come to think of it, the Styrofoam had more flavor.

So, weighed down by my brother's 'cooking', I wobbled my way to school.

In Science, my Health teacher called me and another kid up to the front.

"Class," he said, "these two young men are perfect examples of what I am about to teach you: the greatness of being healthy, and the dangers of obesity."

I'm sure I was the healthy one.

At that point, the lunch bell rang, and I shoved my way to the door and started to toddle my way to the cafeteria.

But there was a S.O.C.K. in my way.

"So that's why you're so poor, huh?" he asked with a smirk.

"Why?" I asked in my best tough-guy voice.

He barked out a laugh. "'Cause you eat so much!"

I laughed right back. "At least I'm not a scrawny shrimp like you!"

I made my way to the nearest bathroom slowly, so he would know I wasn't intimidated.

Then I found a nice, private stall to bawl my eyes out in.

But I made sure I was back in the cafeteria in time to eat.

It was my favorite: fish sticks and deep fried Twinkies. Mm-mm-mm.

After that was Math and English, then we were free to go.

When I got home, the house was quiet. That was odd; our house is never quiet.

Then I saw Sodapop tied up with duct tape over his mouth, crying in the closet.

"Hello," I said pleasantly. "What are you doing here?"

"Fifty thousand dollars," I heard someone rasping behind me.

I turned and saw Darry standing there with a wild, furious look in his eyes, frothing at the mouth and holding a slip of paper.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what he meant, so I just nodded sagely.

"The prosperous parents of the juveniles are suing us for fifty thousand dollars."

"I see." I was still trying to look wise, but I had no idea what he was talking about.

Darry was walking towards me, his eyes glinting with anger. I was getting scared. I was sure I could squash him if it came to that, but I didn't want to have to try to outrun him. _That_ would be scary.

"When the yelling child commanded his small canine to attack the Socially Outstanding Civilized Kid, the friends of the S.O.C.K. told their parents and now the parental units are suing us for fifty thousand dollars."

Uh-oh. This wasn't good at all.

Darry would make me go to the local diner, plead for a job, and I'd have to do dishes for the rest of my life till the fee was paid!

This fate was so frightening that I started trembling where I stood.

Darry cocked his head slightly to the side, looking confused. "Brother? Why dost thou tremble, as though thou wert about to be attacked by a ferocious beast?"

Oh, I don't know, maybe because I _was_ about to be attacked by a ferocious beast…AKA my brother. Not the overly-emotional crying one, either.

So I ran. Er, toddled.

I knew that Darry wouldn't try to chase me. That would be like trying to chase a hippo. Who knows what it would do if it got scared?

I ran more that night than I have in all my gym classes combined…meaning I made it three whole blocks.

"PONYBOY?!"

I nearly had a heart attack when I heard my named screamed, but I knew who it was.

"Johnny? Why aren't you in school?"

"UM…" Johnny's face scrunched up, then brightened. He waved his hand around in the air.

"Yes, Johnny Cade; do you have the answer?"

"BECAUSE IT'S NOT SCHOOL TIME!"

I nodded thoughtfully. "Good answer."

Johnny beamed. "DO I GET A GOLD STAR?"

"No, but you do get a…" I looked around. "…A stick named Stickford!" I picked a twig off the ground and handed it to Johnny, who beamed.

"Now, on to other matters. Johnny, we're running away."

"OKAY! WHERE ARE WE GOIN'?"

Oh. I hadn't thought of that.

"I KNOW! I KNOW!" Johnny was waving his hand around again.

"Johnny?"

"WE COULD VISIT MY GRANDMA!"

It was a suitable idea. "Where does she live?"

"UM…" Johnny's eyes rolled back into his head, like he was checking for the information.

There was a pause. "OH."

"Well?" I asked.

Another pause. "I FORGOT."

"Forgot what?"

"SHE'S DEAD."

I sighed. So much for that. "Well, there's only one thing to do, then," I said, trying to look brave.

"WHAT?"

"We'll just have to book hotel rooms."

" _ **YEEEEEAAAAHHHH!**_ " I'd never heard Johnny cheer so loud. The force of it blew my hair back and made my eyes water.

"Whoa there, boy," I said. "Hold your excitement."

"YEAH, OKAY!"

I found a pay phone on the street corner to book the hotel, but then we realized that neither of us had enough money. So we waited 'til an unsuspecting kid came by and we mugged him and knocked him out. Then we realized we'd just mugged Soda, who'd come out to look for me. Oops. Oh well. We threw him in the dumpster in hopes that the trash man would come collect the trash. Then no one would know a thing.

Just as we'd finished tossing Soda in, we heard a motorcycle come down the road. Dally was riding it with his pet goldfish, Dolly, in the sidecar.

"Hey, Dally! Boy are we glad to see you!"

"And why is that, my fellow friends?"

Dally asked, pushing his shades up onto the top of his head.

"BECAUSE WE NEED TO BOOK A HOTEL!"

"Yes, I believe I can help. You see up yonder, where the road bends?

Follow it till you come to a church,

It's hard to see; you'll have to search.

Don't bother with a hotel, stay in the worship place.

It's not used; the preacher had a bad face."

"GEE, THANKS, DALLY!"

"See ya, Dally!"

We waved, then headed off to the church Dally told us about.

He was right; it was hard to find. We had to walk for _half_ a _mile_ before we finally got there. I collapsed on the steps outside and Johnny had to drag me inside.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The next thing I knew, someone was dumping Coke down my throat.

I gasped and gargled. After I'd drowned a little more, the Coke stopped coming.

"I ran out. Hand me another."

"HERE!"

"Thanks."

I heard the pop of a bottle cap, and then more Coke was poured down my throat…or on my face, I should say. Whoever was doing the pouring didn't have very good aim.

"Oi! What's the big idea?" I asked, but since I was being drowned, it sounded more like, "Owatdabeegiea."

"HEY! HE'S AWAKE!"

"Told you the Coke would work."

Alright, I knew one of the voices belonged to Johnny, but I couldn't tell who the other person was.

I opened my eyes. And immediately regretted it. Two cans of Coke burning your eyeballs doesn't feel that wonderful. So I went to my last resort: Johnny.

"Hey, Johnny; hand me your coat."

"OKAY!"

He shoved it in my hand and I wiped my face on it and opened my eyes.

"HEY! WHY'D YOU USE MY COAT TO DO THAT?"

I shrugged. "Better yours than mine."

Then I looked past him and saw none other than Two-Bit. He was a little thinner than I remembered.

"Two-Bit! What're you doing here?"

"Trying to revive you with Coke, apparently. Which you owe me approximately ten dollars for."

"I'll pay you when I get home and bum some money off Darry. But I meant what were you doing here in the first place?"

"Now that there's an interesting story. See, I got in trouble at school, so I was in detention with a couple other kids, and we decided to form a club, and we're gonna meet here."

"Cool! What's the name of the club?"

"The Breakfast Club."

"Really?!" I wanted to join!

"No."

"Oh." What a disappointment. "Then what _are_ you doing here?"

"Well _that's_ an interesting story. See, Kathy and I were gonna meet here and elope, but that was a week and a half ago and she still hasn't shown. I'm starting to think she stood me up."

"Ha! Good one, Two-Bit!" I laughed, figuring he was being his sarcastic self.

"Seriously."

"Wait– really?"

"Yup."

"Wow…"

We sat there in awed silence for a while.

Then we heard a loud growl and we all jumped.

"WHAT WAS IT? A LION?"

"A tiger," Two-Bit said, looking a bit scared.

"A BEAR!"

"Oh my!" Two-Bit gasped out, then suddenly his face lit up. "Hey! We can catch 'em and start a zoo and charge everyone to come see it!"

"Guys, guys, _guys_ ," I said, shaking my head and trying to look macho and tuff. They looked at me. "It was just my stomach. I'm _starving_!"

To make sure I got my point across, I threw my arm across my face, flopped onto a random couch sitting in the middle of the room…and immediately decided not to do any more flopping when it broke under my weight.

I lay there in a heap on the floor, dust swirling around me.

Suddenly, someone thought it would be a good time to break out in a Broadway song.

"Johnny," I groaned, "stop singing."

"I'M NOT SINGING! IT'S YOUR POCKET!"

"Johnny," I said matter-of-factly, feeling _quite_ superior, "it is a known fact that pockets don't sing."

"WELL YOURS DOES!"

"Kid," Two-Bit said, rolling his eyes, "your cell phone's ringing."

"Oh!" I was surprised. "Yes! I knew that!"

I should have known; the song was from the musical _Oliver!_ It was called 'Food, Glorious Food'. Mm-mm-mm. Right up my alley.

I picked up my phone and flipped it open. Using my best tough-guy voice, I answered it. "Hello, I'm hungry. Who is this?"

"Ponychild? Ponychild, be that thou?"

Aw, shoot. It was Darry.

"Yeah; uh, hold on." I was _not_ in the mood to talk to Darry.

I raced up a flight of stairs to the bell tower, leaned out over the edge, and dropped my phone.

It made a satisfying crunch as it hit the ground.

I sighed happily, nodded, and brushed my hands off. My work here was done.

I walked – well, _rolled_ , actually – back down the stairs where Two-Bit and Johnny were playing with Puppy.

"Now that that's settled," I said, "let's get down to business. You," I pointed at Two-Bit. "You go first."

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "I already told you why I'm here."

"No, no, no!" I stamped my foot and pouted in the way that drives Darry crazy. "Did you bring any _food_ with you! That's what I want to know! Why do I care what you're doing here? All I care about is, one: if you brought food, and two: if you did bring food, will I have to share it with you and Johnny, or could I just squash you and be done with it?"  
Oops. I hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. But Two-Bit just smirked. "You're actin' more like me every day, kid. Sarcasm. Great, isn't it? I've been tryin' to tell you that for years."

Okay, as long as he thought it was a joke, I was safe.

"So…did you bring any food?"

"Nope."

"What about you, Johnny?"

"…NO."

I sighed, annoyed. "Come on, people, why didn't either of you think to bring food? Did you not get the memo about hiding out till Darry runs out of banana cream pies?"

"NO!"

I paused. "Oh."

I put on my thinking face and thought, stroking my imaginary goatee.

After about ten minutes of thinking, I had it: "We'll just have to get some food."

"Brilliant, Einstein." [I bet you can guess who said that.]

I ignored him and barreled on. "So now all we have to do is figure out how to get food. Suggestions?"

"OOH! OOH! I KNOW!" Johnny waved his hand in the air madly.

"Yes, Mr. Cade?"

"WE COULD GO HUNTING!"

"Don't be a doofus," Two-Bit cut in. "We don't have any guns, and we're _not_ using my switchblade. We'll have to collect berries and nuts off bushes."

I nodded, dread growing in the pit of my stomach. I did _not_ want to hunt around outside, getting pricked by thorns, just to find some poisonous berries to eat and die from. "Excellent suggestions."

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Kid, seriously; you've known me for how long, and you still don't know when I'm being sarcastic?"

"Oh! Uh, yes! I knew you were being sarcastic! I was just...joking! I was joking!"

I went on, my brain racing, trying to think of something to say. "Um, what we could do is…is…beg! We can beg!" I was so proud of myself for thinking this up. And Darry says I don't use my head!

Two-Bit rolled his eyes yet again. "Kid, there ain't nobody 'round here to beg from."

"But…but…we'll _starve_!" I cried.

Johnny nodded, his eyes wide. "I THINK THE FAT KID IS RIGHT!"

I snarled and tackled Johnny, who'd gone pale when he realized what he'd said. "What was that, Bucko?" I spat.

"UM…"

"Well? Hurry up! I ain't gettin' any younger!" I was about to wallop him a good one, but before I could, Johnny had thrown me off him.

"Okay, buddy," I growled, "so that's how you wanna play, huh? Well bring it on, man." I was sure I could squash this little twerp.

But before I knew what was happening, Johnny was standing on one leg– _sort of like a flamingo_ , I had time to think–right before he suddenly kicked out at me. Next thing I knew, I was lying there in a heap on the floor, dust swirling around me yet again.

"Gee wiz, Johnny," I groaned, "who taught you how to do that?"

"UM…JUST A FRIEND OF MINE."

'What friends?' is what I was about to say, but then I realized that I didn't really want another dose of what he'd just given me. So I went for option two. "Karate could come in useful. Who taught you?"

"MR. MIYAGI."

"Who?"

"MR. MIYAGI! HE'S MY KARATE TEACHER. BUT HE NEVER REMEMBERS MY NAME; HE KEEPS CALLING ME DANIEL SAN!"

I cut him off. "Okay, Johnny? Believe it or not, I actually _don't_ care about your pathetic problems. Right now, all I care about is getting something deliciously un-nutritious to eat."

As I lay in the dust, I thought about how nice a baloney sandwich would be right about now. After all, I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten anything.

"Hey, Johnny, you got any dough?"

"UM…NO! BUT WHAT GOOD WOULD DOUGH BE? IT'S NOT LIKE WE HAVE AN OVEN TO COOK IT IN!"

"No, not literally! I mean, do you have any money?"

"SURE! BUT WHY?"

"To buy me– er, us! I meant _us_!– baloney sandwiches!"

"WELL, I HAVE…" He dug through his pockets, fishing out half a stick of gum, a handful of lint, and several other unidentifiable objects. "…THREE CENTS!"

"That's not enough! Say…Two-Bit, ol' pal…"

"'Sup, kid."

"You had a ring for Kathy, right?"

"Yup. Solid gold. Diamond-studded."

I didn't ask who he'd mugged to get it. "I guess you won't need it anymore, now that she stood you up, huh?"

"Guess not."

"Two-Bit, we're going to use your ring to buy supplies."

Much to my surprise, Two-Bit didn't disagree. He just shrugged and pulled the ring out of his back pocket. "Sure. I was getting hungry anyways. I haven't eaten anything since I got here."

So that's why he was so thin.

He tossed the ring to me, and I tossed it to Johnny.

"Johnny, you're going to go into town and buy us food. Got it?"

"YEAH!"

"Good. Be off with ye!" Boy, living with Darry really rubbed off on me.

Johnny dashed down the road, Puppy at his heels.

Two-Bit leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. I sat quietly for a while, pondering a question that had been in my mind for as long as I could remember.

"Hey, Two-Bit."

"Yeah."

"How comes the S.O.C.K.s hate us so much? Is it because we're so awesome? I think it's because we're so awesome."

"I'll need payment for being your therapist."

"I'll steal Soda's paycheck when he gets it and give it to you. So how comes they hate us?"

"We have cooler hair than they do."

"Yeah, that's probably it…" I thought for another minute. "No, it's probably not. I wonder what it is?"

Two-Bit opened his eyes and looked over at me. "You ever read _The Sneetches_?"

"…No…"

"'When the Star-Belly Sneetches had frankfurter roasts'," Two-Bit quipped, "'Or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,

They never invited the Plain-Belly Sneetches.

They left them out in the cold, in the dark of the beaches.

They kept them away. Never let them come near.

And that's how they treated them year after year.'"

I listened for more, but Two-Bit had closed his eyes again.

"That's all you got?"

"That's all I got."

"So…what exactly am I supposed to get out of that?"

Two-Bit opened his eyes again. "See, the Star-Belly Sneetches are like the S.O.C.K.s, and the Plain-Belly Sneetches are like us greasers. The S.O.C.K.s just think they're better."

"But why?"

"I dunno. Maybe they've got stars on their stomachs, too."

Huh. Maybe.

"Well that's a sad story. How's the ending go?"

"Won't tell. You'll have to read it yourself. I got a paperback copy right here, if you want."

"You carry around a copy of _The Sneetches_?"

Two-Bit shrugged. "It's always good to have on hand. Especially when you've got a little sister that wants you to read it to her a million times a day."

"Well, I got nothin' better to do."

"You'll owe me for letting you borrow it."

"Put it on my bill," I said, and grabbed the book and started reading.

I had just gotten to the part where Sylvester McMonkey McBean was driving away with his millions when Johnny came back. [Yeah, I'm kind of a slow reader.]

I jumped up. "Johnny! Did you bring baloney sandwiches?"

"YEAH; I GOT SOME BREAD, AND BALONEY, AND CHEESE, AND PEPSI, AND SOME DOG BISCUTS, ANDATUBOFJELLOANDABARRELOFROOTBEERANDAGALLONOFPINKLEMONADEANDAPICKLE–"

" _One_ pickle?" I whined.

"YEAH; IT WAS THE ONLY ONE ON DISPLAY, SO I SNATCHED IT BEFORE ANYONE ELSE COULD. IT'S A **GIANT** PICKLE!"

"But Johnny," I whined, "I'm allergic to fruits and vegetables! And a pickle is a cucumber!"

"All the nutrients are probably pickled out," Two-Bit said, so I sighed.

"Well, it'll have to do."

We started unloading the stuff, tuning Johnny out as he rambled on about how it was the prize-winning pickle…seven years running.

As soon as we finished unpacking, Two-Bit groaned as he caught a glimpse of himself in a rusty old mirror on the wall. "Now my hair's all messed up. Don't suppose you got a comb while you were out, huh, Johnny?"

"YEAH, ACTUALLY I DID! HERE!" Johnny took a black comb out of his pocket and handed it to Two-Bit. It had a few teeth missing, so I figured Johnny probably just brought his comb from home.

Two-Bit combed his hair back, sighed contentedly, and handed the comb back to Johnny. "Thanks; that's one reason I'm glad _you_ went out to get supplies. Pony here wouldn't have thought of buying a comb. He don't give a hoot about what he looks like."

I was about to retaliate and remind him that I'd won our street's beauty pageant last year [granted, I was the only contestant…and the judge], but Johnny cut in.

"OH, I DIDN'T BUY THE COMB!"

"You didn't?" Two-Bit looked confused. "Did you steal it?"

"NO."

"Then where's you get it?"

"I FOUND IT ON THE SIDE OF THE DIRT ROAD ON MY WAY BACK HERE!"

Two-Bit looked a little green. "Excuse me, boys," he muttered, "I believe I'm going to go wash my hair." He went outside to the water pump. Johnny and I watched as he doused his head in water, every now and then saying, 'Ew! That's _gross_! Ugh!'.

Finally, after about ten minutes, he was satisfied with his washing job and came back in. "That's better."

"HEY, TWO-BIT," Johnny said, "I HAVE SOME SOAP HERE IF YOU WANT TO USE IT."

Two-Bit looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. He grabbed the bar of soap Johnny was holding and stomped back out to the water pump to wash his hair again.

"What, did you already use it or something?" I asked, referencing the soap.

"NO; I FOUND IT IN THAT DUMPSTER WE PUT SODAPOP IN!"

"You probably shouldn't tell Two-Bit that."

"PROBABLY NOT."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The next morning, I woke up. Oh, don't get any ideas; I only woke up because someone was kicking me in the ribs.

"Sodabop stobbit…"

"I ain't Sodapop." Oh. It was Two-Bit. What was he doing here?

I finally opened my eyes and saw Two-Bit staring down at me.

"Hello," I said pleasantly. "What are you doing in my house?"

Two-Bit threw up his hands. "He's finally popped. Or cracked. Whatever you call it. The cheese slid off his cracker!"

 _I think the cheese slid off_ his _cracker,_ I thought. But then suddenly I remembered where we were.

Oh. Yeah. We were running away. That's right.

Suddenly, I missed home. And Sodapop. And even Darry…well, Darry's cooking, at least. I didn't really miss _him_ at all.

I yawned and stretched. "Where's breakfast?"

Two-Bit threw a baloney sandwich at me and informed me I owed him two dollars because he made it for me. I told him I'd buy him a really expensive Christmas present to make up for it. He said as long as he could sell it for a lot of money, he didn't care if it came from the thrift store.

Two-Bit had suggested that we disguise ourselves, in case anyone came up looking for us [then promptly informed us we each owed him five bucks for the idea]. So I chopped Johnny's hair [it wasn't too bad…if you were about a hundred miles away and blind], and when he did mine, I told him to give me a buzz cut. He looked a little unsure, but I insisted, so he obliged. When I looked in the old mirror on the wall, I grinned. "Oh yeah," I said in my best macho voice, "now I look _tuff_." I realized that I wouldn't be able to use hair grease on my luscious locks anymore, but it was a small price to pay to look as tuff as I now did.

We spent the next few days just kind of chilling in the church.

I'd read the Sneetch book a few times, but it turns out the last two pages of the book were missing. The last thing that happened was Sylvester McMonkey McBean saying about how you can't teach a Sneetch anything. So I never found out the ending, and Two-Bit refused to tell me what happened.

"Aw, come on," I'd whined, "Just a teensy-smeensy hint?"

"Nope…unless you're willing to give me a hundred dollars."

I sat there and pouted, hoping he'd give in and tell me the ending. No go.

So I just read the Sneetch book. And re-read it. And re-re-read it. And…well, you get the picture.

Other than that, we just lounged around, not doing much of anything.

In other words, we were bored.

One of the unidentifiable objects in Johnny's pocket had been a deck of cards, so we played a lot of Go Fish and Slapjack.

Two-Bit tried to teach us how to play Poker and Blackjack, but Johnny and I just didn't get it.

So in the end Two-Bit just huffed and threw up his hands. Which, unfortunately, had the deck of cards in them. That day we learned how to play 52 Pick-up.

After about five days of staying in that church, I was getting a little sick of it.

So one morning, when Two-Bit and Johnny were asleep, I thought I'd go outside and watch the sunrise.

Have you ever noticed how the sky gets all pink around the sun as it's rising? Looks just like strawberry ice cream. Yes sir, I do so love the sunrise.

I snuck across the screeching floor, out the squeaking door and down the creaking steps.

"PONYBOY?"

I screamed and whirled around. "Gosh, Johnny, don't scare me like that! And be quieter!"

"sorry."

I nodded. "That's better." Then we turned to watch the sun rise.

"that's pretty, all the pink and the purple."

"Sure is."

"It reminds me of–"

"Strawberry ice cream?"

"yeah! I wish it could stay that way all the time."

"'Nothing Food-wise Can Stay'," I said, remembering a poem I'd heard years ago.

"huh?"

He asked for it. "A chef's first meal is like mold,

But then he gets better, and soon it's like gold.

His early tries are like gunpowder,

But only till he runs out of flour.

Then he decides to eat,

All of his creations so sweet.

Just as it all goes to decay,

Nothing food-wise can stay."

"wow! who wrote that?"

"A guy named Bob Frosty."

"Where'd you learn it?"

"Not sure. I just always remembered it 'cause it was about food, and it ain't too often I find a poem about food."

We watched the sun finish rising, then I went inside and ate breakfast: more baloney. I had– I mean, _we_ had– eaten everything else within the first two days. So all that was left was–bleh–baloney.

And dumb Johnny had given the cashier Two-Bit's ring, even though it was worth a whole lot more than some bread, baloney, cheese, Pepsi, dog biscuits, a tub of Jell-O, a barrel of root beer, a gallon of pink lemonade, and a pickle. Sorry; a GIANT pickle.

I was munching on my third baloney sandwich when I heard a familiar tune jingling outside.

"PONYBOY! HEY PONYBOY, COME QUICK!"

What in the world did Johnny want?

I popped the rest of the sandwich in my mouth, wiped my hands on my pants, grumbled under my breath, and walked outside, where Johnny was standing.

I put my best annoyed look on my face [the one I usually give my brothers when they've interrupted my midnight snack] and tapped my foot. "Well?"

"LOOK!" Johnny was pointing at– _THE_ _ICE CREAM TRUCK_?!

Hallelujah, praise the Lord! I was saved! I started to run towards it, but then suddenly, I saw Sodapop grinning and waving madly at me from the front seat, yelling, " _HI PO-NEEBOY!_ " just about as loud as Johnny's ever yelled. I was a little disappointed; obviously the trash man hadn't come and collected the trash from the dumpster.

Suddenly, someone clapped their hand over Soda's mouth and yanked him back out of my sight.

That was strange.

Then I gasped. I knew what was happening! Darry was trying to lure me in! He thought I'd be hungry enough– or stupid enough; one or the other– to run to the ice cream truck to get a cone, then he'd snatch me and take me back home!

Well, I wasn't going to fall for it!

I grabbed Johnny and we ran back to the church.

"Where's Two-Bit?" I asked, gasping for breath.

"HE WENT OUT BACK TO PICK DAISIES!"

"Okay, I'll–wait; to pick daisies?"

"YEAH, HE SAID HIS MOM'S BIRTHDAY WAS COMING UP, AND HE WANTED TO SURPRISE HER!"

I just stood there, staring at Johnny.

"WHAT? DIDN'T YOU KNOW HE LIKED HIS MOTHER?"

"I didn't know he _had_ a mother."

"HE DOES."

"Thanks for the information. I can rest easy now." Suddenly, I gasped. "Oh no!"

"WHAT? DID YOU FORGET TO GIVE _YOUR_ MOTHER DAISIES FOR HER BIRTHDAY?"

"She's dead, you blockhead!" I said. "No, I mean, 'Oh no!' Two-Bit's gonna be lured in by the ice cream truck! We've got to save him!"

"OKAY! HOW?"

"We'll just have to…have to…" I was at a loss. How could we save Two-Bit? Then, suddenly, I knew what we had to do. It would be hard, and painful, maybe even deadly. But there was no other way.

"You'll have to run out and snatch him before Darry can."

"OKAY!"

"I'll stand here and give you moral support," I said as we went to the back door. "On three. One–"

"THREE!" Johnny bellowed, yanked the door open, and ran out.

I knew it was too late even before Johnny made it even ten feet out of the building.

The ice cream truck was bearing down on Two-Bit, who was lost in his own little world, picking daisies and humming a tune.

I saw Darry with a wild look in his eye, leaning halfway out the passenger window, one hand holding on to the roof, and the other reached out towards Two-Bit.

I finally realized that if Darry was doing the snatching, that meant Sodapop was driving. I looked over, and sure enough, there was Soda in the driver's seat, looking terrified. This both humored and alarmed me.

Humored, of course, because the thought of my brother Sodapop; Sodapop, the crybaby actually _driving_ was just funny.

I was alarmed, however, because Sodapop hadn't gotten his driver's license…or even his permit, for that matter. He'd gone on his sixteenth birthday to get his license, but he got so nervous that he started bawling in the middle of it, losing control of the car. Needless to say, the instructor thought that was a safety hazard and failed him.

All this ran through my mind in the three seconds that the ice cream truck was bearing down on Two-Bit, recklessly driving at _least_ a hundred miles an hour.

Suddenly, out of the blue, I heard a 'beep-beep!' I looked over, and there was Dally on his motorcycle, riding up towards Two-Bit. The way Dally was headed, the motorcycle and the ice cream truck were going to collide. And of course Sodapop, whose mouth was dropped open as he stared at Dally, didn't have enough common sense to stop the truck.

But luckily the motorcycle was faster than the truck. Dally whizzed in front of the truck, grabbed Two-Bit by the collar of his jacket, and hoisted him up onto the seat behind him. Then he turned the motorcycle in a one-eighty and zoomed back towards Johnny. He snatched him up and plopped him on the seat, behind Two-Bit. Then he finally saw me standing in the doorway to the church and waved me over. I ran out as fast as I could, and all three of them heaved me onto the seat between Two-Bit 'n Johnny.

I heard the truck trying to follow us as we whizzed away, but then there was a splutter, and I turned to look past Johnny.

I saw Darry hopping up and down madly, and Soda standing by the front of the truck looking ashamed.

"I toldst thou to fill it up with fuel before we hastened to leave from our dwelling place!"

That's all I heard before we left them eating our dust.

We drove for about ten minutes. I couldn't see because Two-Bit was in front of me and he was still holding his daisies; they kept blowing and thwaping me in the face.

 _Finally_ Dally pulled into a parking lot.

As I hopped off the cycle and stretched my legs, I saw that we were parked at a Dairy Queen. There's actually kind of a funny story behind that name.

See, Darry had wanted to own his own chain of fast-food places. He was a great cook; his burgers were juicy, his fries were golden, his milkshakes were creamy. He was going to call it 'Darry's Queen' in honor of his girlfriend, Juliet. But when he wrote to…well, whoever he wrote to so he could legally start the restaurant, they never wrote back. Darry kept writing to them, sending blueprints, and samples from the menu, but they never responded. They probably enjoyed the food, though.

Then one day as he was driving, Darry saw a fast-food place called 'Dairy Queen'. He thought this was suspicious, so he pulled in and walked inside.

Inside, it looked exactly how Darry had drawn the plans for Darry's Queen. And the menus were the same. Darry was fuming. Someone had stolen his idea! And he found out who it was, later, but he never told me.

So Darry gave up his dreams of being a cook and started roofing houses instead.

But anyway. We pulled through the drive-through, and Dally ordered everything on the menu. Literally.

And we ate every bit of it.

I was finishing my fifth milkshake when Dally piped up,

"Oh, I did not tell you, did I?

We have got us a spy!"

"FOR THE ARMY?"

"No, for the pool party of the S.O.C.K.s.

They invited us, for they know we are jocks."

"COOL!"

"No, it's suspicious,

'Cause the S.O.C.K.s are pernicious."

Johnny looked a little disappointed. "SO WE'RE NOT GONNA GO?"

Dally looked at him in disbelief.

"Of course we're gonna go!

I just think you ought to know:

We must keep a watchful eye for tricks.

The S.O.C.K.s might try to infest us with ticks."

"So who's the spy and why?"

"Answer to question one:

Vanilla Bean.

Answer to question two:

'Cause she offered, and it made me feel tuff."

It didn't rhyme at all, but that was okay, because it was as good of an excuse as any. But why had she offered in the first place? After Dally had made fun of her like that, I would've thought she'd want nothing to do with us. But whatever. Girls are weird. Even if I've learned nothing else in my fourteen years, I've learned that.

Maybe she had a crush on Dallas. Now _that_ would be funny. Just the thought had me snorting and cackling into my milkshake.

Suddenly, Johnny yelled, "PUPPY!"

I didn't know what he meant until I had glanced around and realized that Puppy wasn't sitting in the back seat with Two-Bit and Johnny and me, and he wasn't in the sidecar with Dolly.

"DALLY, WE GOTTA GO BACK AND GET PUPPY!"

"Okay, okay,"

Dally looked a little baffled, but he revved the motor and we tore out of the parking lot.

"HURRYHURRYHURRY!" Johnny was yelling in my ear.

I thought my eardrum was about to pop by the time we finally pulled down the dirt road leading to the church.

Suddenly, I realized that the church was in flames! The phrase 'on fire for God' took on a whole new meaning.

"What happened?" I asked.

Johnny didn't stay to answer my question; he leapt off the motorcycle and raced towards the church.

Aw, shoot. He was trying to play hero.

He ran into the burning building and suddenly I heard a scream.

"Dally!" I yelled. "Go save him!"

"Not me!"

said Dally, looking frightened.

"Two-Bit! You save him!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?!"

"The fire might ruin my copy of _The Sneetches_!"

Dang; now _I_ was gonna have to save him.

Without thinking any more about it, I jumped off the cycle and ran towards the church.

I raced up the steps and into the building. I had time to think _Hey; I'm actually running! Ha! Will miracles never cease?!_ before I inhaled a lungful of smoke. I started choking. But I had to find Johnny.

So I waded through the smoke, trying not to breathe, looking for him.

"Johnny!" I yelled, and I heard a sob in response.

"Johnny?" I was a little panicked now. As much as I went on about how dumb Johnny was, or how annoying he could be, he was an okay pal. And if anything had happened to him…

"Johnny!" I yelled again, then suddenly, I saw him. He was kneeling on the ground, flames blazing around him, sobbing. I got closer and realized he was kneeling next to Puppy, who was lying on the ground, unmoving.

"Johnny?"

"He's d–dead…" Johnny was crying and I knew I should tell him it was going to be fine, then get him out of there, but the only thing I could think was _Hey; he's not yelling!_

Then I got a hold of myself and said, "Johnny, we gotta get outta here!"

But Johnny refused to leave. Finally, I did what I had to do. I clonked Johnny on the back of the head and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

I was going to carry him out, but then I remembered that I have weak muscles and decided to drag him out instead.

Unfortunately, his jacket caught on fire, so I had to stomp it out. But by the time I got it out, there was a giant burn hole in the back. _Oh well,_ I thought, _I guess Johnny'll just have to freeze._

I tried dragging him out through the front door, but as soon as I got there, the doorway caved in.

So I ditched that idea…and Johnny too.

I left Johnny lying there and ran to the back door of the church. Don't get me wrong; I liked Johnny pretty well. But I liked me better.

I was about to open the door and run out, when suddenly the door flew open and Two-Bit dashed in.

"Where's Johnny?"

"In there-"

That was all I got out before Two-Bit said, "Hold my wallet- and if you take anything, I'll know!", shoved me out the door, and ran further into the building.

I stared after him for a second, then shrugged and strolled down the back steps towards Dally's cycle.

It's wasn't _my_ funeral, after all.

"Where's Johnny?"

Dally asked as soon as I got back.

I shrugged. "Inside. Two-Bit went-"

Dally grabbed a fistful of my shirt and yanked me a foot off the ground.

"Listen, you selfish little pipsqueak! You're gonna go right back into that church and get Johnny! Got it?"

I nodded, more terrified of him than I had been of Darry. He hadn't even bothered _trying_ to rhyme! That was _not_ good news. "Okay!"

Dally set me down and slapped me for good measure.

"Oi! Don't mess up my hair, man!" I said, trying to smooth my fabulous buzz cut back into place. "How comes you can't go in and get him?"

Dally looked at me like I was the stupidest person on earth. [Which, if it weren't for Soda, I may well have been.]

"'Cause _I_ gotta stay here with Dolly!"

I was about to retaliate when suddenly I heard Two-Bit yelling.

I looked over. The back doorway had collapsed, and Two-Bit was trying to shove a limp Johnny through the window.

"Grab him!" Two-Bit yelled. So, with nothing better to do, I ran over and grabbed Johnny from Two-Bit, who crawled out the window.

Well, not all the way out. A piece of burning wood fell and hit him on the back. He fell, unconscious…but not before crying, "You owe me for this!"

Dang! What was I supposed to do now? I dropped Johnny as lightly as I could and ran back over to Two-Bit. Great. I could barely lift Johnny, and I was supposed to be able to drag Two-Bit out of there?

I groaned, but grabbed his arms and tried dragging him out the window. He didn't budge an inch.

"Dally!" I yelled. "Come help me drag-" That was all I got out before a spark landed on my arm and I started frantically blowing on it and slapping it.

I heard someone yell, "PO-NEE!", then I got clubbed on the back of the head. I had time to think, ' _Hey, that makes three of us unconscious_ ', before I blacked out.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

When I came to, I was in the back of an ambulance, lying on a stretcher.

 _Hey, this is pretty neat,_ I thought to myself. _I never been in one of_ these _before!_

Then suddenly, I was wheeled out of the ambulance into the sunlight.

I heard a bunch of people yelling, and I had time to hear someone say, "If thou dost not heal him, fool, I will _end_ you!"

Then someone jabbed a needle into my arm and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was sprawled on a bench in the hospital waiting room. I was infuriated! What kind of service was this? I was supposed to be in a plush, king-size adjustable bed, with nurses waiting on me hand and foot! Why in the _world_ was I sitting in a plastic chair?

Just then, the door swung open, and I saw Darry and a doctor walk in.

My heart lifted when I remembered what I'd heard what he'd said earlier while I was on the stretcher.

What do you know! Darry did care about me, even though he hated to admit it.

I was about to say something to him when he glanced up, gave me a curt nod, and continued to discuss something with the doctor as they walked through the waiting room and into the hall.

I was confused. He'd been so mad at whoever was treating me before, but now that he knew I was alright, he just walked away? What?

Just then, Darry stuck his head back through the door and snarled at me. "Come and-" he stopped, staring at my awesome buzz cut, seemingly at a loss for words. He even looked a little sick…but I'm sure he was just green with envy. Then he got a hold of himself. "Come and see our brother, thou selfish, insolent fool! He hath been severely wounded!"

I was a tad alarmed. I mean, Sodapop was an okay guy, when he wasn't crying or talking. Well, maybe that made him not such an okay guy, as he was always either talking or crying.

But anyway. I went with Darry to room 403. [Consequently, that's the same room our parents died in. Huh.]

We walked in and I saw Sodapop lying in a hospital bed, unconscious. There was a giant bandage around his head and burns on his face.

"Can I help you boys?" We turned and saw a doctor looking at us from the doorway.

"We were simply seeing if our kin was well enough to converse with us; but, as you can see, he is unconscious at this present moment."

The doctor stared at us for a second. "Uh-huh." Then he walked away.

Darry and I stood there awkwardly for a minute then I said, "Soooo…where's the rest of the gang?"

Darry glared. "The yelling child is in chamber four hundred and two, and the sarcastic one is in chamber four hundred and four."

I walked across the hall and into room 402. I saw Johnny lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

I looked up there too, but I didn't see anything.

"Hey, Johnny," I said. "How ya feelin'?"

He looked over at me, but didn't say anything.

"He won't be able to talk for a while," a voice behind me said.

I turned and saw a nurse walk into the room.

"He inhaled too much smoke; it injured his voice box."

I didn't know what that meant, but then I realized something. "Vanilla? Vanilla Bean?"

She cocked her head to the side, looking confused. "Yes…?"

"It _is_ you! Sorry, I just recognized you now. Don't you remember me? We met at the movies!"

She thought for a moment, then said, "Oh, that's right! Your name's…Horseman or something, right?"

"It's Ponyboy."

"Yeah, that was it. So what're you doing here?"

"I came to see Johnny," I gestured to the lump on the bed. "And to see Sodapop… and Two-Bit."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Wow; they're all here in the hospital? What happened?"

So I told her everything: how me 'n Johnny had made our way through deserts and giant lakes, and climbed a mountain where we hitched a ride with a knight in shining armor; then how we'd fought our way across raging rivers and wastelands, through wild forests and big cities, and even outran a scandalous villain along the way!

I must have told it really well; Vanilla was laughing her head off by the time I finished the story.

"You sure have a big imagination, Ponyboy!" She finally said, after wiping a tear out of her eye.

I was a little upset she didn't believe me, but before I could say anything, another nurse stuck her head into the room. "Cherry, we need you in four-oh-three! There's been a break out…"

"Coming," Vanilla said, and started to walk out.

"Wait a minute!" I said. "Why did she call you Cherry?"

"I can't say right now, Ponyboy; I have to go."

"But-"

But she was already gone.

So I wandered around, trying to look like I knew where I was going, but really, I was lost.

Somehow I ended up at room 711.

 _Hm,_ I thought happily, _that sounds like that gas station that sells slushies…_

I walked into the room without bothering to knock.

"Cherry?" someone called out weakly. "Is that you?"

I stopped in my tracks. I recognized that voice. It was Bob, that S.O.C.K. that tried to beat up Johnny and me!

Without stopping to say hi and ask how many people he'd mugged lately, I turned and raced out of there.

Darry was waiting by our pickup. He glared at me. "Where hast thou been? I have been waiting here for much longer than I pleased! If I had my way, I would have left you here!"

That didn't bother me; I was used to this kind of treatment from Darry. "Well, why didn't you?"

Suddenly, Darry's face went scarlet.

"I–I..."

"You–you…?"

"I…" Darry took a breath and straightened. He walked around to the back of the pick-up and threw up the tarp lying in the back.

I gasped. Soda was lying in the back of our truck, unconscious, with the bandage still on his head.

I stared. "I thought he was still in the hospital!"

"He was. However, he is not anymore."

"How comes?"

Darry glared at me. "Do not say 'how comes'. It is not proper grammar. He is in there no longer because I do not trust these…how do you say it… _doctors_ , and their medicinal therapy. Therefore, I snuck him out of this place of evil medicine. I was going to leave without you, but he awoke for a moment and told me that I had better not leave you here. So I did not."

Well! At least I had _one_ brother that cared about me!

Darry and I climbed into the truck and we headed home.

"So…how come he was in the hospital anyways?" I asked as Darry ran another red light.

Darry took his eyes off the road to glare at me, hitting a streetlight and flattening it as he did. "Because, thou insolent cur, he attempted to rescue you from the flames. However, being a dumb-bell, he did not realize you were not in the burning place of worship."

"Oh." It was true; Soda was a dumb-bell. "So…why was the church on fire in the first place?"

Darry went a shade pink. "Our insolent kin had forgotten to put gasoline into the tank of our stolen– I mean, our _borrowed_ vehicle of frozen refreshment. But, thankfully I had an auxiliary canister of it in the posterior of the automobile. I was filling the cistern when our brother darted over, gesticulating with a lighter he had found on the flank of the boulevard."

 _Wow, you can find a whole ton of good stuff on the side of a road!_ I thought.

Darry went on. "Our foolish and clumsy kin tripped on his shoe string on his way over and collapsed into me, inadvertently flicking on the lighter. Thus, the fire was lit."

"Huh. So where are we goin' now?"

"221 Baker Street, perhaps."

"Okay; hey…isn't that where we live?"

Darry took his eyes off the road yet again to glare at me. [He flattened a statue of the governor that time.] "It is where we _used_ to dwell. The authorities have decreed that we evacuate our premises immediately upon our return."

I think that meant we were getting kicked out.

"But…how comes? How comes we gotta leave?"

Darry's eyes bulged. "Don't say-"

Suddenly, we heard a banging on the back window of the truck.

"HAY! HAY, PO-NEE! HAY, DAREE!" Apparently Soda also likes to make fun of the fact that I have the word 'pony' in my name.

I turned, and there was Soda's grinning face, smashed up against the glass, waving madly and yelling at us.

"Um…Darry?"

Darry rolled his eyes. "What dost our kin want _now_?"

"Whaddaya want, Soda?" I yelled to Soda.

"We hav 2 go bak!"

"Back where?"

"2 thuh hospittle!"

"Why?"

"B-cuz I want 2 ride thuh bedz!"

"What?"

"The beds at the infirmary have controls," Darry cut in, "allowing the bed to ascend or descend."

"Okay…so we're going back to the hospital?"

"Nay, fool!" [I gave a small 'neigh'. I didn't see why he kept telling me to do that; I guess he gets a kick out of it.] "For I do not trust those 'doctors'."

"So we're going home?"

"On contraire."

"But you said-"

" **WE RN'T GOING BAK 2 THUH HOSPITTLE!?** "

I thought the back windshield was going to shatter, for how loud he was. _Wow; he rivaled Johnny with that one!_ I thought.

" **WE HAV 2 GO BAK!** "

"Allow us to strike a bargain with you, Soft Drink," Darry asked.

Soda was suspicious. "Wut kind uv bargin?"

"If thou agrees to behave, I vow that we shall stop at a" he shuddered, " _Dairy Queen_ to purchase you something…delectable."

"Ok!"

Soda was quiet the rest of the trip, so we stopped at Dairy Queen's drive-thru, and Darry got Soda an ice-cream cone.

"Pass this to the human in the back," Darry ordered me, so I leaned out the window as far as I could and, making sure Darry didn't see, took a giant bite out of it before handing it to Sodapop. Soda didn't even notice. _Alright!_ I cheered to myself as I licked ice cream off my face, _way to go being stealthy!_

"Mmm! Strohberee! Thnx, Daree!"

Darry grunted in reply and sped out of the parking lot.

I decided to ask him a question; he would know the answer, as he was smart when he really tried to be. "So why aren't we goin' back home?"

"Because-"

"Who says you _can't_ go home?"

"If you would-"

"I mean, there's only one place they call me one o' their own."

"If I may-"

"You know what; sometimes I feel like I'm just a hometown boy on a rolling stone. Who says you _can't_ go home?"

Darry stared at me.

"Sorry," I said. "I think Dally's rubbing off on me; you know, talking rhymey and all that."

Darry glared at me, almost hitting a duck that was randomly sitting in the middle of the road.

 _Hey, at least he didn't flatten anything this time!_ I thought happily. That was a good sign.

"The fee sent to us by the Socially Outstanding Civilized Kid's parental units remains unpaid, therefore, we are to be evicted. Therefore we may or may not travel homeward. I believe first we shall…" he paused, thinking. "Yes, the first thing we shall endeavor to do is travel to our companion Dallas T. Winston's abode."

"How comes?"

Darry slammed on the brakes and pinned me against the door of the car. "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY THAT?!"

I paused to think about that one. "About a million and two, I think."

Darry nodded in affirmation. "It would do you well to _take heed_ ," he growled at me. With a final shove, he finally let me go, glared at me, and started driving again.

"So how comes we're–" I realized my mistake and quickly corrected myself. "I mean, how _come_ we're goin' to Dally's house?"

"Because, insolent cur, our companion has-"

"Wait; aren't you forgetting something?"

Darry snarled at me. "And what is that?"

"Dally ran away! He don't live at his house no more!"

Darry thought about that for a minute. "I suppose you are correct," he admitted. "Well, we shall then traverse 'around town', as they say, and search for the fellow."

So we did.

We found him in Steve's yard, watching Steve measure blades of grass, and we waved them over.

"Greetings, fellow homo sapiens!" Steve said. "Is there something I may have the pleasure of assisting you with?"

"Ah, fellow mortal," Darry said, "we are indeed in need of your so generously offered assistance. You see, our slightly incapacitated kin is in the rear end of our vehicular transportation."

"I see. And how might I be of assistance?"

"We need you, being a major in the scientific field, to assist us as my, erm, _dear_ _brother_ , and I- how do you say it?- 'bust them out' of the infirmary."

"Who, exactly, are we 'busting'?"

"Our companions, Johnathan and Keith."

"Who?"

Dally looked genuinely confuddled.

Darry huffed. "Two-Bit', as you pathetic excuses for mortals choose to call him!"

"Ah!" Steve said. "Yes, I know him. But, tell me: why exactly are we 'busting' him out?"

"I do not trust these doctors and their medicines. (Also, they charge much more than I can afford for treatment.) So, gentlemen, we are going to 'bust them out'!"

With a cheer, everyone piled into the pickup: Me and Darry in the front, and Steve, Dally, and Dolly in the back with Sodapop.

We were driving down the road when I finally asked, "D'you think busting Johnny n' Two-Bit out of the hospital is the best thing to do? I mean, they're in there for a reason."

"'Tis the best thing to do, for I have said it."

I didn't question him again.

About halfway back to the hospital, I heard some 'thudding' in the back of the pickup, and when I turned to look out the window, I saw that Soda was awake and trying to stand up. Steve and Dally were trying to hold him down, but Soda managed to throw them off and stand up, arms raised, the end of the bandage on his head flapping wildly in the wind.

"THIS IZ SO KOOL!" I heard him yell. I rolled my eyes and turned back around in my seat as he continued to yell. "U SHOOD TRI THIS, PO-NEEBO-"

Suddenly there was a 'thunk', and Soda stopped yelling, but Steve and Dally started.

"Stop the vehicular transportation!"

"Stop the car!

Your brother has flown far!"

Darry slammed on the brakes, and I twisted around in my seat to see what had happened. There were Steve and Dally, shouting and pointing to a heap lying in the middle of the road a few hundred feet back.

Then I realized that _Soda_ was the heap lying in the middle of the road!

"Darry!" I cried, "Soda just got _clotheslined_!"

Darry didn't say anything, but he opened his door and raced to the lump that was Soda.

 _Boy, now he's_ really _gonna have a hard time sweeping Sandy off her feet, with a smashed nose and burns all over his face on top of all the crying and text lingo,_ I thought. I sighed and propped my feet up on the dashboard. Darry didn't need _my_ help carrying Soda back to the truck, after all; that's what Steve and Dally were there for.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

By the time we finally made it back to the hospital, Steve and Dally had managed to re-wrap Soda's head (using the same dirty bandage that he'd had on before, of course), because, Darry had told me when he started driving again, 'our brother has not, indeed, been 'clotheslined', he has simply taken a tree branch to the head.'

'Huh?' I'd asked, and Darry had huffed in annoyance.

'When our kin stood up in the back of our vehicular transportation, he was not shrewd enough to look up and see if there were any low-hanging tree branches we were travelling under, and he was struck!'

So that's how it happened.

Now here I was, squashed in a broom closet between Dally and Darry, twiddling my thumbs and wondering if I could get a buck or two out of Darry to blow on the vending machine while we waited.

But right as I was about to ask him, I heard him talking to Steve over the com-link. "Stephen! Stephen, wherefore art thou?"

I couldn't hear Steve's answer through Darry's earpiece, but I imagined it was something along the lines of, "I am currently passing through the premises of the medical practitioner's space of rest (meaning the lunchroom). I plan to- wait a moment…"

"Whatfore is it?" Darry asked.

"I believe I have viewed John Cade's mother passing through the hallway just outside of where I am currently standing!"

Darry's eyes popped out. "Thou hast viewed his maternal parent? Tell me, young Stephen: why is she here?"

"I am currently spying through a 'peep-hole', as they call it, and she appears to be asking the desk clerk which room her descendant is in."

"And?!"

"And Desk Clerk is telling her."

I'd never seen Darry panic before, but I had a feeling that if he ever did, this is what it would look like.

"Ye must not allow that spawn of evil to visit young Cade!"

"I am trying to distract her by lobbing saliva balls at her head, but they are all landing in her hat! I must re-think my strategy!"

"Nay, for there is no time for that!" [I smiled smugly to myself. Ha! Now Darry was making Steve neigh too!] "Ye must act as a medical practitioner, Stephen, and lead her away from her kin!"

"I will attempt your tactic! Over and out, as they say!"

I knew Steve would enjoy acting like he was a doctor; he loves pretending he's a spy and going undercover as all sorts of things. He even came up with a code name for himself: Ethan Hunt, and he always sends himself little tapes in the mail that say, 'Your mission, should you choose to accept it…', then he goes off and pretends to be a spy on some top-secret assignment. Steve's a weirdie.

Darry turned to Dally and me– a hard feat to accomplish, as we were all squished in a 5x5 broom closet. "Whilst Stephen accomplishes his task, we shall rescue Keith and Johnathan from this remedial infirmary."

I think that meant we were bustin' them out.

We managed to climb over top of each other and make it out of the closet; the poor nurse that was passing nearly had a heart attack. I heard her mutter something about looking for Narnia…which wasn't a bad idea. I should have done that while I was in there. But it was too late now; Darry was telling me and Dally what to do.

"Ponychild, thou shall…" he paused and tried again. "Thou wilst…" he stood there for a long minute. "I will come back to you. Dallas, ye shall make sure there are no health specialists in or around Johnathan or Keith's quarters. Go to, and quickly!"

"I go, I go, look how I go;

Swifter than an arrow from a tartan's bow,"

Dally recited, and Darry nodded appreciatively. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you: Darry and Dally teamed up to write a bunch of rhymey plays under the pen name 'William Shakespeare'. Ha! Like anyone'll ever read 'em. Whatever. I'll let them dream.

Dally swaggered away.

"And Ponychild…" Darry considered for a minute. "Thou shall…"

"Charm the nurses?" I offered. "Show off my impressive muscles to distract them?"

Darry didn't seem to like either of those ideas, even though I was sure they'd work. "Nay…" [I sighed, annoyed, and neighed; this was _really_ getting old.] "I thinkest thou shall wait for the rest of us by the exit."

"But…" I'd just lost my chance to sweep the nurses off their feet! "But how comes?"

I caught my mistake too late. Darry was on me before I could muster out a feeble 'oops.'

"DO NOT UTTER THOSE WORDS!" He screamed in my face, pinning me against the wall. "I HAST TOLD THOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO REPHRASE YOUR QUESTION BUT YE STILL INSIST ON USING grammatical ERRORS!"

"Okay, okay," I said, alarmed. "Just chill out, Darry, I won't do it again."

He glared at me a second longer and gave a growl as he turned on his heel and stalked off.

I straightened my shirt and headed outside. At least, I would have headed outside if I knew where the exit was. But I couldn't find an exit sign for the life of me. I finally strolled up to the help desk and asked a nurse where the exit was.  
She stared at me for a second [probably 'cause I'm just that good-looking], then pointed behind me. I turned, and lo and behold, there was the exit! I thanked her, making sure to mention that I was single, and strutted towards the door with all the swagger I could muster.

Then I tripped over a garbage can. I could hear the nurses cackling all the way outside.

I waited by the door for ten minutes, then got bored and decided to wander around. I was walking around the building [y'know, seeing if they had any pop machines outside] when I saw Darry wheeling a stretcher out of another exit. There was a sign above the doorway that read 'Morgue'. I wasn't sure what that meant…hopefully it was a fancy name for 'kitchen'.

I wanted to go in and see what was cookin', but Darry waved me over to help him with the stretcher. Soda was on it, with new bandages wrapped around his head, eyes closed.

"Darry, what're we doin'?" I asked. Why in the world were we wheeling people out of the kitchen?

"Hush! We must keep up the pretense that we are disposing of the corpses."

"Corpses? What corpses?"

Darry pointed at Soda, then behind him, at Steve and Dally, who were both in white doctor coats wheeling out two more stretchers. "These corpses."

My jaw dropped. "DEAD!" I screeched, probably rivaling Johnny's loud skills. "THEY'S _DEAD_?!"

"Calm thyself-"

"BUT WHY'S THEY DEAD?!"

"Ponychild-"

"I THOUGHT WE WAS BUSTIN' THEM OUT SO'S THEY COULD _LIVE_!"

"There were many grammatical errors in that sentence-"

"DARRY, WHY'S THEY DEAD?! _**I THOUGHT WE WAS SAVIN' THEM!**_ "

Suddenly, Soda's eyes popped open, staring at the sky, and he gasped. "Thuh dokter iz cuming, Daree!"

I was happy he was alive, but I was more curious as to what he was saying. "Huh? Who's coming?"

"THUH DOKTOR!" Soda shouted again, staring up at the sky.

Darry looked slightly put-off, and he looked behind us. "There are no medical practitioners in my realm of vision," he muttered, but he sprinted off into the morgue/kitchen to make sure.

"Thuh dokter," Soda whispered, sounding awestruck.

"Doctor? Doctor who?" I asked. He didn't answer, so I finally looked up at the sky. I thought I saw a blue phone box flying around, but it was gone when I blinked, so I guess I was just imagining it.

"Don't worry, Soda," I said, trying to sound brave and resolute. "You're just a little high from all those medical drugs they pumped into you. You'll be fine in no time."

That seemed to calm him down, and he dropped off like a rock.

Literally. He fell asleep, then rolled over…and off the stretcher.

I, with all my superman-like qualities [including the looks], tried to lift him back onto it, but for some reason I couldn't. There must have been some kryptonite nearby.

Darry came back out right around then, and when he saw me all out of breath and sweaty from trying to lift Soda, he threw his hands up in annoyance and picked Soda up himself and dumped him back on the stretcher. I bet he's the one that planted the kryptonite.

Anyways, we wheeled the un-dead gang to a parking lot in the back of the hospital, where there were three ambulances waiting. I saw Vanilla, or Cherry, or whatever she was calling herself, leaning against one of them. She perked up when she saw us. _Or, should I say, when she saw_ me _,_ I thought smugly.

She helped load the stretchers into the ambulances, and Darry said that he'd drive one and Dally would drive one, but they didn't have a third driver, so would she possibly mind doing us a favor and driving?

Cherry/Vanilla didn't mind, so I piled into the back of the ambulance that had Soda, and Steve piled into another and we drove off.

I wasn't quite sure where we were going, or what we were going to do with the bodies when we got there, but I decided to let Darry figure it out. After all, he's the brains of this operation; I'm just the looks.

We drove for a while, and I was annoyed to see that there was no food at all in this so-called 'rescue vehicle.' So I just twiddled my thumbs and whistled while I waited to get wherever we were going.

When we finally got there ['there' was Steve's house, by the way], we wheeled Two-Bit, Soda, and Johnny into the back door after Steve poked his head in and made sure no one was home.

"I am most grateful to you, Stephen, for allowing us to use your accommodations to 'hide out' in, as they say."

"It is no trouble, Darrel; I am most willing to assist you in any way possible. But what shall we do with these unconscious Homo sapiens?"

Darry considered this. "I suppose we shall be forced to forsake our fellow brethren while we venture to meet the S.O.C.K.s."

"Wait a second," I cut in. "Why're we meetin' the S.O.C.K.s?"

Dally answered before Darry could.

"They're having a pool party tonight;

We're going there because they gave us an invite."

"Cool! But I left my swimming trunks at home."

"Tis fine," Darry told me, "for thou wouldst sink if thou tried to swim."

I was trying to come up with a real crusher of a response when Steve said, "Would it be wise to leave our comrades while we venture out?"

Darry let out a sigh. "I am in doubt. However, there is nothing that can be done but leave them as we endeavor to enjoy the S.O.C.K.s' merrymaking."

So we left Two-Bit, Johnny, and Soda unconscious in Steve's living room while we waltzed over to the pool party. Vanilla/Cherry said she had to get back to the hospital, but she'd been real glad to see us…but I'm sure she meant to say she'd been real glad to see _me_.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

When we got to Bob's house, where the pool party was being held, Randy opened the door. "Hey," he said, letting us in. "Glad you could make it. The party's in the basement."

I thought that was an odd place to have a pool, but before I could comment, Randy had pulled me aside. "Hey, look, kid; I'm really sorry about that other night when me and Bob were gangin' up on you and that other kid. It was a rotten thing to do."

I agreed; it was.

"That's sorta the reason we're havin' this party," Randy went on, "to make up for it, you know, kind of as an apology."

I wasn't sure what to say; I mean, I was just here for the snacks. I hadn't come to hear a speech. So I just smiled and nodded, then quick dashed downstairs.

There were a bunch of S.O.C.K.s down there, along with Tim Shepherd's gang. Well, it was nice of the S.O.C.K.s to invite them too! The radio was blasting really loud, and a song I'd never heard before was on; something about a guy with a Maserati that goes one-eighty-five, but he lost his license, so now he don't drive.

I looked around. Ah! There it was! In the far corner: a long table of chips, popcorn, sweets, and carbonated drinks that were sure to rot my insides. Yes, this was going to be a good party; I could tell already.

Suddenly, I heard an angry voice behind me.

"What d'you mean, there's no swimming pool?"

I turned and saw Dally, red-faced, yelling at a S.O.C.K., one hand in a fist under the S.O.C.K.'s nose, the other holding Dolly's fishbowl.

"We never communicated to thou that this was to be a _swimming_ pool festival," the S.O.C.K. said, sounding oddly like Darry, "Thou hast simply assumed that thyself."

Dally glowered at the S.O.C.K. before turning around to stomp back upstairs. But on his way out, he kicked one of the pool table legs. Big mistake.

The S.O.C.K.s were on him in a flash. But Tim's gang, Darry, and Steve were on _them_ in a flash.

Within ten seconds, we had a full-blown rumble on our hands.

I leaned back against the snack table, munching on some Doritos and watching the show. Ooh, Darry got a sock [no pun intended] in the jaw; that looked like it hurt. And Dally was pounding another S.O.C.K. good! Man, this was a good show.

I tapped my foot to the beat of the song as the man on the radio [and all the S.O.C.K.s, from the sound of it] belted out how life had been good to him so far.

Suddenly, I was pulled into the fray. I didn't see who did it, or they woulda gotten it good. They made me spill my Doritos! I was madder than anything.

Someone jumped on me, and I managed to throw him off. It was Randy. He looked apologetic as he stood in a defensive position. "Sorry about this, kid," he called as he swung high and I ducked low. "But one does not simply kick a forty-thousand dollar pool table."

"It wasn't me!" I cried indignantly. "I was just sitting there, eating my chips! It was Dally! Beat _him_ up!"

But it was no good; no one would listen to me when I told them I hadn't done anything wrong. By the time the S.O.C.K.s were running away, Steve had three cracked ribs [but he really didn't seem to mind; he just sat there explaining about the rib cage and how it protected vital organs], Dally was spitting out his front teeth [which made him look all the scarier], Darry was holding his back like an old man, and I was bemoaning the loss of my chips.

"Darrel," Steve said, looking up at Darry, who was glaring at the stairs the S.O.C.K.s had just run up. "The individual that articulated to Dallas that this was not indeed a swimming pool party…was that–"

"Indeed it was," Darry growled. With that, he helped Steve to his feet and strolled out. The rest of us followed.

"So what happens now?" I asked Darry, trotting to keep up because he walks really fast when he's mad.

"We venture back to Stephen's accommodations," he said shortly, "where we shall attempt to rouse our comrades."

"How comes– I mean, why?"

"Because we are going to purchase our confrère Johnathan Cade a new companion."

My jaw dropped. "You mean like a _slave_?!"

"On contraire, fool!" Darry spat at me. "A housebroken canine!"

"Oh." That made more sense. I thought for a second, then piped up. "Say, Darry…"

"Speak your mind, Ponychild."

"That guy that told Dally it wasn't a swimming pool party…who was that?"

Darry got a mean look on his face. "That, cur, was none other than Rome Oh."

"Rome Oh?"

"Aye…Rome E. Oh, to be precise."

"So what's your deal with him? Did he win the 'Best Shakespearean Speech Award' out from under your nose or something?"

"Nay."

I ignored it that time. "…Okay…?"

Darry sighed. "He hath stolen both my ideas for my chain of bistros…and Juliet."

My jaw dropped. " _He stole Juliet_?!"

Darry nodded in affirmative.

I was shocked. Darry and Juliet: they had been the love story of the century. See, Juliet was from the rich side of town and her parents didn't approve of her dating Darry.

Then, right about the time this 'Rome' guy stole the plans for Darry's Queen, Darry and Juliet broke up, or so I'd been told. But apparently this was no mere break-up; Rome had somehow swept Juliet off her feet and she'd dumped Darry. I felt a little sorry for him, but hey, it wasn't my problem.

I changed the subject. "So we're getting' Johnny a new dog, huh?" That could be fun. He could get a German Shepard, or a Pitbull, and sic it on his parents whenever they started beating him up!

"Aye," Darry said curtly, and he didn't seem to be in a talking mood, so I kept my mouth shut the whole trip back. We had to swing by the hospital again and pick up our truck, then we headed over to Steve's place.

When we got there, Two-Bit, Johnny, n' Soda were all awake…and from the sound of it, trying to bust the door down. Sure enough, when Darry opened the front door, there they were, holding a giant battering ram. How they managed to construct that in the time we were gone, I'll never know. I barely had time to register the looks of shock on their faces before they accidentally let the battering ram go and it slammed into Darry, who went flying.

"Darry!" I ran over to his unmoving form. "Darry! That was so cool! Do it again!"

He gave a weak "ouch" in response before getting to his feet and hobbling back to the front door.

"Sorree, Daree!" Soda said, looking worried.

"YEAH, SORRY!" Johnny yelled. "WE WERE JUST REALLY SURPRISED TO SEE YOU THERE! WE WERE LOCKED IN SO WE WERE TRYING TO GET OUT!"

"The lock's on the _inside_ of the door," I pointed out. Their eyes flitted over to the doorknob, then got wide in realization.

"Told you so," Two-Bit said smugly, and held out his hand. Soda and Johnny shamefacedly reached into their pockets and handed him three dollars each. Only Two-Bit could turn something like this into a betting game.

"'Tis nothing of concern," Darry grunted. "I have only suffered a fracture of the spinal cord."

"Oh, good; I thought it was something serious," Two-Bit said.

Darry stared at him for a second, then raised his eyes to the heavens and offered up a feeble prayer of, "give me patience," before turning back to the rest of us and announcing that we were "traversing to the domesticated beast structure to obtain a new mongrel for young Cade."

Johnny didn't seem overly excited about this plan as we all piled back into the pick-up. I was squished in the back next to Two-Bit, so I asked, "Hey, Two-Bit, how comes you were in the hospital? You don't look burnt like Soda was."

"Broken back," he replied, and I spent the rest of the trip trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic or not.

When we finally got to the pet store, Dally immediately went to check out the selection of goldfish, Steve got into a conversation with the cashier about what the ideal climate for chameleons was, Soda went over to the cage of kittens, Darry stood impatiently by the door, Two-Bit started talking to the parrots, Johnny just stared out the window across the street, and I strolled over to the vending machine. After I'd pick-pocketed some rich passer-byer and gotten myself a bag of chips, I munched my way over to Johnny. "Whatcha doin' Johnny? You's supposed to be lookin' for a new puppy!"

"I DON'T THINK I WANT A NEW DOG," Johnny said, a little sadly. "PUPPY IS UNREPLACEABLE."

Right about then, Darry came over, saying, "Johnathan, the correct term, I believe, is ' _ir_ replaceable'. Also, there is a wide selection of Labrador retrievers over yonder…" and Johnny slumped unhappily after him.

"Hay, Po-nee!" I waltzed over to Soda, who was looking in a cage. "Thay hav cinchilluhz heer!"

I quick looked around to make sure there weren't any workers nearby, then unlatched the cage and pulled out the grey, fluffy chinchilla.

"Po-nee, I dont think–" Soda started to say nervously, but I cut him off.

"That's right, Soda," I agreed, "you don't. That's because Darry's the brains of our family, I'm the looks, and you're just the one that buys us sympathy points."

"But Po-nee, yur not suposd 2–"

"I do what I want, Soda."

Soda glanced behind me and gulped. "Po-nee!"

"What _is_ it, Soda?" I said, annoyed.

"Theres a-"

"A what? Spit it out!"

"Put thuh chinchilluh down, Po-nee!" He said urgently. "Hurree!"

"No! I won't! Who's gonna make me? You? Ha!"

"I am," a voice said behind me, and I screamed, whirling around and accidentally dropping the chinchilla.

There was a worker standing right behind me. He didn't look very happy. Especially when he saw the chinchilla waddling away. He ran after it as it hid under a big crate of pet supplies.

I quickly moseyed over to Darry and Johnny, hoping the worker wouldn't come over and make me try to wrangle the chinchilla back into its cage.

"…I would suggest obtaining this one, Johnathan, as it appears to be a strong specimen. But that is simply my opinion; which would you choose?"

Johnny had been staring out the window, and suddenly his eyes lit up. "THAT ONE!" he shouted, pointing across the street.

There wasn't anything out there…unless you count the mangy, orange old tomcat that looked like it'd been in one too many fights.

"But Johnny, that's-" I started to say, but Johnny was already racing outside, oblivious to the cars honking at him. He scooped up the cat before it could run away and hugged it to his chest, looking like the happiest kid in the world. "I FOUND THE ONE I WANT!" he shouted.

Darry was staring out the window at him, looking shocked. "But Johnathan, that is not even a canine!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Johnny yelled back. "I LOVE HIM ANYWAY!"

Darry stared for another second, then looked back at the lab puppy he'd picked out. With a sigh, he set it back in its kennel, and we rounded up the rest of the gang.

I found Dally by the fish tanks, holding Dolly's bowl. She seemed to be ignoring him, and he was talking to her in a pleading voice.

"I wasn't even thinking about replacing you!

I was simply looking at them, for something to do!"

I bit back a laugh. Dally sweet-talking his goldfish. This wasn't something I'd ever let him live down.

"To prove it to you, I'll get you a friend!"

And with that, Dally bought a little scuba-diver figurine for Dolly's fishbowl.

"Dally!" I called to him as he carefully set it in Dolly's bowl, "We's leavin'!"

We all piled back into the pickup. I got shotgun this time, mainly 'cause I threatened to squash anyone that got in my way, and we were off.

Johnny was up front with me n' Darry, still hugging his cat, who was purring, even though it had a permanent scowl on its face. Then I tried to pet it, and it nearly took my arm off. "Whatcha gonna name it, Johnny?"

Johnny held the cat up and studied its flea-bitten face for a second. "PUPPY!"

"But that was Puppy's name!"

"YEAH! IN HONOR OF PUPPY THE PUPPY, THIS'LL BE PUPPY THE CAT!"

I don't understand the way that kid's brain works. If he has one.


	10. Chapter 10

Reeeeally long chapter…get comfortable. You'll be here a while.

PS: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I'm glad you're enjoying it! :)

CHAPTER 10

Once we got to Two-Bit's place and piled into the living room, Two-Bit's mom came in and offered us cookies, which I gratefully accepted. After the chips I'd eaten, I needed something sweet to balance it out.

Then Two-Bit's kid sister, a little six-year old, came in and asked where _The Sneetches_ was, and Two-Bit had to admit that he didn't have it anymore. "I dropped it when Ponyboy here decided to be chicken and not save Johnny." He nodded at me. "The book– can you get another one?"

"Sure," I said, cookie crumbs spraying out of my mouth, "but it'll cost ya." I'd learned that one from him.

Two-Bit gave me a look, and I just shrugged. Hey, if I was going to have to get him another copy of the book, I was at least going to get some junk food out of the deal!

"Once my kin and I venture to our household," Darry was saying as I munched my eighth cookie loudly, "the landlord official shall force us to pack our belongings and 'scram', as they say."

"So what will our course of action be, Darrel?" Steve asked.

Darry let out a haggard sigh. "I am not certain," he admitted.

"Well," I put in, "we could always just move in with Two-Bit or Steve, or we could pull a Dally and live in people's living rooms."

"Sure you can move in," Two-Bit said. "Just let me get you the keys for your private suite and make sure the room service cleaned it."

I think he was kidding.

"I suppose you could write to the child welfare society and request that they help you in your predicament," Steve suggested.

Darry was shaking his head. "There is nothing for it. We shall simply have to gather our belongings and live in our automobile."

I wondered how we were going to shove a stove and pantry in our pickup, but that didn't seem to worry Darry. Oh well; I figured he had a plan. After all, he's the brains of our family; I'm just the looks.

Darry 'n Soda 'n me were heading across the porch when we heard Dally scream,

"YOU _ATE_ HER, YOU STUPID CAT!"

We turned around just in time to see Puppy the cat streaking out the door, Dally on his heels, and Johnny racing after him, shouting all the way. We jumped out of the way as they ran past us and down the street. Two-Bit and Steve joined us on the porch and stared after them.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Johnathan's feline somehow got into Dolly's fishbowl and…ate her." Steve said, looking a little shell-shocked. Dolly had sort of been our gang's mascot.

Darry sighed. "I would stay and aid you comrades in this difficulty, but alas, it is essential that we proceed homeward– with _haste_."

So we said bye to the gang and drove home. Sure enough, there was a black Corvette sitting in our driveway with two guys in suits and sunglasses sitting in the front. The guy in the passenger's seat got out and told us we had two days to clear out.

Darry looked down his nose at the guy. "My kin and I shall strive to follow the orders you have given." With that, he stalked into the house, Soda on his heels. But I stayed behind and asked the guy if I could try on his sunglasses. He glared at me, so I gave a little laugh to let him know I was joking [I wasn't] and headed up the porch steps. I was walking across the porch when there was suddenly a deafening 'crash!' and one of my feet broke through the wooden slats. I went down, my head slamming into the wood of the porch.

Darry came flying out of the house and stared at me, with my one leg stuck through the porch floor.

I mustered a feeble laugh. "Oops."

Soda came running out. "Wut hapind?"

Darry got a mean look on his face and gestured towards me. " _This_ has happened."

Soda's eyes travelled down to the hole in the porch. "Gasp!" he gasped, and ran over to try to hoist me out of the hole. "Po-nee! R U OK?!"

"Yeah, m'okay." But I didn't feel okay- my leg hurt and my head was killing me where it'd smacked against the floor.

Darry finally helped Soda hoist me out of the hole and I leaned against one of the supporting beams that held up the porch roof. I heard one of the guys in the black car say, "Is he okay?"

"He is quite fine," Darry said. "A contusion on the cranium has never injured anyone-"

"Glory!" One of the guys in car cut Darry off. "Look at the kid!"

I had time to think, _Ha! Darry's gonna be mad if I die and the government stops paying for the cable!_ _ **Revenge**_ _!_ Then the ground rushed up to meet me very suddenly.

* * *

I woke up to see sunlight streaming in the window and Soda looking down at me, wearing his dragon mask. What I could see of his face lit up when I opened my eyes.

"Hay, Po-nee!" he said gleefully.

I had time to tell him I didn't appreciate his sad attempt at humor before I fell back asleep.

When I woke up again, I heard a song playing on the radio downstairs, _Devil in Disguise._ I thought it was quite an appropriate choice when I saw and Darry was pacing up and down my room. For a second, I thought he was worried about me…but then he turned and glared at me with a ferocious look.

"Finally you awaken! Dost thou not care that thine own kin hast been distressed?"

"Um, I haven't really had time to think about it."

"Of course thou wouldn't; thou never uses thine cranium to think, simply to grow tresses on."

I tried to figure out what that meant, but Darry stopped pacing, pulled over the chair by my desk, and sat down in it with a weary sigh. "Our comrade Dallas has sued our other comrade Johnathan's feline for consuming the aquatic creature christened Dolly. We are to appear in court to affirm that we know nothing."

"But how come-?" I was about to add the 's' on the end, but I decided I didn't want my nose a permanently different shape, and stopped myself. "If we don't know nothing, then how come we gotta go to court?"

Darry suddenly went scarlet. "I…" he cleared his throat before continuing in an embarrassed tone. "I have been appointed to act as the judicial court official."

"You mean you's playin' the judge?"

Darry sniffed disgustedly. "I am not 'playing the judge,' as you so rudely put it; I have refused to be the magistrate."

I wondered who else they'd find to play the judge; Darry was the smart one around here. Well, unless you counted Steve, but I don't think any of us would want to sit through a trial where he was judge; it'd end up being a three-hour lecture about the properties of the chemicals in window cleaner. "So when's the trial?"

"Tomorrow."

"Thanks for giving me a day's notice."

Just then, Sodapop ran in, looking worried. "Hay, Daree! Dallees loyer iz heer!"

Darry heaved a sigh and headed downstairs, grumbling.

"Hay, Po-nee!" Soda said, grinning down at me.

Buttering him up so he'd butter me some popcorn, I grinned back.

"Duz yur hed feel betur?"

For a fleeting moment, I thought about telling him the truth, that my head felt perfectly fine. But then common sense took over. "I think it might be better if I eat some ice cream to numb the pain."

His face brightened. "OK!" He dashed downstairs, no doubt to get me a tub of ice cream from the icebox, or– heaven forbid– if we were out, make some.

I heard voices in the living room steadily growing louder; Darry's, and I couldn't quite hear who the other one belonged to.

Finally, I heard Darry shout, "I reclaim what I said, therefore, Keith; I _shall_ represent the judicial officer!"

The door slammed a few seconds later, and I wondered what in the world Two-Bit had been here for, and why he was pesting Darry about being the judge in this shebang.

Whatever. I closed my eyes and dozed off, waiting for Soda to bring me my ice cream. I didn't have to deal with it until tomorrow, after all.

* * *

The next day, I was up and running…well, not _running_ , exactly. More like making Soda push me around in a wheelchair that I'd made him steal and paint flames on the side of.

"Take a left here, Soda– the diner's this way." The burns on his face had healed up pretty well, but he still had some scars. I'd just laughed evilly when I saw them– now no one could deny I was the good-looking one in our family!

Soda took a sharp turn and wheeled me into the diner.

"Table for one!" I bellowed without waiting for a waitress to ask how many in my party (but it's always a party when I'm around).

Soda pushed me over to the counter and sat down on a barstool next to me. A minute later, a waitress came over, looking a bit frazzled.

"What can I getcha?"

"I'll have five eggs, four pieces of toast, three strips of bacon (real bacon, mind; none of that turkey bacon crud they're serving nowadays), two sausage links, and a double-chocolate shake."

"And a partridge in a pear tree?" the waitress said dryly.

"Just the partridge," I said earnestly. "I don't eat fruit."

The waitress gave a chuckle and muttered something along the lines of "I can tell." Then she said, "how d'you want your eggs done?"

At my house, we all like our eggs done differently: Darry likes his deviled (see, that right there tells you all you need to know about him), Soda eats his scrambled with cinnamon, and as for me–

"I'll take 'em raw."

The waitress stared at me. "You serious?"

"Yes ma'am," I said proudly. "That way the nutrients don't get cooked out." I know a healthy heart equals a happy heart. And Darry says I don't use my head!

The waitress just shrugged, then turned to Soda. "And for you?"

"Ill hav a cup uv choklit milk!"

"That all?"

"Yup!"

"It'll be right out."

I leaned back, laced my fingers behind my head, put my feet up on the counter [and in the soup of the guy next to me], and sighed contentedly. Life was good: I had a slave to push me around in my throne, a wonderful breakfast was coming my way, and a trial was going to be conducted, which meant that a lot of dramatic yelling and finger-pointing was going to happen, just like it does on _Perry Mason_. And who knows? Maybe Darry would even have to wear one of those white powdered wigs all the old judges wear. Ah yes, life was looking very good indeed.

Just then, I heard the jingle of the bell above the door, and someone came running over.

"HEY, PONYBOY!"

Life was suddenly looking very dreary.

Johnny plopped down on the seat next to me [the other guy'd left when he saw what'd happened to his soup], holding Puppy the cat, who I was pretty sure wasn't allowed in here; the snarl on that thing was sure to scare away all the customers.

"Whaddaya want, Johnny?"

Johnny looked worried, nervously petting Puppy the cat. "I JUST FOUND OUT THAT TWO-BIT IS GONNA BE DALLY'S LAWYER AT THE TRIAL TODAY!"

"So?"

"SO I HAVEN'T _GOT_ A LAWYER! AND IF PUPPY THE CAT DOESN'T GET DEFENDED, THEN DALLY'S GONNA MAKE ME GET RID OF HIM!" Johnny's eyes widened in fear at the thought of losing another precious animal, and he hugged Puppy the cat to his chest. "SO I GOTTA GET A LAWYER!"

"So go hire one!"

"I'VE ONLY GOT THREE CENTS, REMEMBER? SO I THOUGHT MAYBE STEVE COULD DO IT, BUT HE WENT INTO A BIG SPEECH ABOUT HOW HE COULDN'T BECAUSE HE WASN'T A BACHELOR FROM A LAW SCHOOL, OR SOMETHING!"

"Then it looks like you's outta luck, Johnny," I said, peering over the counter to see if my order was coming anytime soon. It wasn't.

"BUT I WAS THINKING MAYBE YOU COULD BE MY LAWYER?" Johnny looked hopeful. "BECAUSE YOU CAN BE VERY PERSUASIVE WHEN YOU WANT TO BE!"

Well, it was a nice way of saying that I threated to squash anyone that dared defy me. "Alright, I'll do it. How much am I gettin' paid?"

"UM…" Johnny dug around in his pockets with one hand while juggling Puppy the cat in the other. "…THREE CENTS?"

"Not enough!"

Just then, the waitress came out with the order, and I had an idea. "Tell ya what, Johnny– you pay for our order, and I'll let it slide."

"OKAY!"

 _Heh heh heh_ , I chuckled to myself as I salted my nutritiously undercooked eggs, _I can get that kid to do anything._

After Soda and I'd finished breakfast [the partridge was _particularly_ lovely] and I'd convinced the waitress that Johnny was going to pay, Soda and I got out of there and headed to the lot by our house, where the trial was gonna happen. Darry and Steve were already there, constructing benches and a desk out of a pile of wood they'd gotten from who knows where.

"Hey Darry," I called as Soda parked me a few yards away from where sawdust and nails were flying everywhere, "when's this thing happenin'?"

"The tribunal will commence at precisely eleven o'clock," Darry grunted, using the forked side of a hammer to get a nail out of a piece of wood that Steve had hammered in.

I broke out in a cold sweat. What if the trial was really long? Like two hours? I'd miss lunch!

I was worrying over this predicament when Two-Bit came striding over, wearing the nicest set of clothes I'd ever seen him in. I bet he stole it from the same person he'd mugged to get that diamond-studded gold ring we'd used to buy supplies.

"Hey, Two-Bit!" I called, and clapped my hands twice. Soda obediently wheeled me over towards Two-Bit, who was arranging stacks of papers on the newly-constructed desk that he and Dally were going to be using.

Two-Bit glanced at me, then straightened up, extending his hand towards me. "You must be Ponyboy Curtis, Johnathan Cade's lawyer. My name is Keith Matthews, and I'll be speaking for the prosecutor, Dallas T. Winston."

I stared at him. He must've stolen some manners along with the suit. I quickly straightened in my wheel-throne and shook his hand. "I am indeed Ponyboy Curtis, and I'll be defending the defendant." I smiled smugly to myself. I'd show him he wasn't the only one that could be smart and have manners!

Two-Bit– sorry, _Keith_ – nodded at me. "I look forward to debating in the courtroom with you, Mr. Curtis." He went back to stacking papers.

I looked thoughtfully at him for a second, then decided I'd look cool if I was arranging papers, too. "Soda! Get me some papers to arrange!"

"Ok!" Soda sped off and I sat there, amusing myself by watching Steve try to construct benches. As soon as he'd finish one, Darry would come along behind him and redo it. Steve might be a great spy, but he's not too handy with a hammer.

"PONYBOY!" I heard Johnny before I saw him [but what's new there?] and I glanced over my shoulder to see him running up behind me, looking panicked.

"What's your problem now, Johnny?"

"I LOST PUPPY THE CAT!"

I stared at him. "How? I thought he was surgically attached to you!"

"NO! SEE, I HAD TO PUT HIM DOWN TO DO DISHES–"

"Well that was your problem right there! Now listen to me, Johnny: never do something you can make somebody else do. You should've gotten somebody else to do the dishes for you."

"BUT I COULDN'T! I ONLY HAD THREE CENTS, SO THE COOK TOLD ME TO WASH DISHES TO PAY FOR YOUR ORDER!" Johnny didn't look pleased as he added, "I HAD TO WASH TWENTY-FOUR PLATES JUST TO COVER THE PARTRIDGE."

I patted him on the shoulder and assured him it had been well worth it. "Now, Johnny, I guess we can't have the trial 'til we find your cat, huh?"

"NOPE!"

I sighed. "Then we better go look for him."

We trudged [well, Johnny trudged, and I made him push my throne] off down the street. Johnny said he'd seen him run towards my house [ _ha!_ I thought smugly, _animals and humans alike just love me!_ ], so we stopped there.

We saw a half-bald tail disappearing into the hole where I'd broken though on the porch. [I'd have to make Darry to fix that later.]

"COME ON!"

Without any further ado, Johnny had stomped some more right near the hole to expand it, and jumped down in.

I managed to courageously depart from my wheel-throne and expand the hole a few more feet, then I leapt gracefully inside.

"ARE YOU OKAY?" Johnny's worried face looked down at me as I lay on the hard ground. "YOU LANDED REALLY HARD! DID YOU BREAK ANYTHING? I MEAN BESIDES THE GROUND."

I was going to snap at him to quit yapping and help me up, but something caught his eye. "WOW! LOOK AT THAT!"

"What, is your mangy cat doing a jig or something?" I grumbled as I heaved myself up, but my jaw dropped when I saw what he was looking at. It was much better than a cat doing a jig.

It was gold.

GOLD.

We were standing in an underground cavern that looked like it expanded over our entire property. We'd been living on a gold mine our entire lives and didn't even know it!

I started hyperventilating, staring bug-eyed around me, but Johnny had already forgotten that I was now a millionaire and was chasing Puppy the cat, who'd gone further into the tunnel.

"PUPPY THE CAT! COME BACK!"

"Be quiet Johnny!" I hissed at him. "D'you want this tunnel to cave in? Then I'll never be rich!"

"sorry!"

"The question is, Johnny, how do we carry all this gold out of here?"

"where're we gonna put it?"

"In my room, of course! If Darry gets his greedy paws on this, it'll never see the light of day! So we gotta hide it in my room! I'll put it to good use." _My first investment will be a Tastycake truck…_ I thought to myself, mentally rubbing my hands together.

"okay! but how are we gonna get it out of the walls? we'll need to use a pick axe!"

He had a point [no pun intended] – I wasn't about to break my fingernails trying to pry out gold from a rock wall.

"I'll just get Soda to go buy us some," I said.

Just then, speak of the devil– oh, no wait; that would be Darry, wouldn't it?– Soda came running up the porch steps and hopped down the hole. "Hay, Po-nee! I coodnt find U to giv U thuh payper put on yur desk!"

"Well, you found me now," I said. "But forget the papers, Soda– we have more pressing matters to deal with."

"Ok!"

"We need you to go buy two pick axes at the hardware store."

"Ok! But Y?"

"Because you and Johnny are going mining," I said matter-of-factly. "Soda, there's gold in this mine, and you can't tell anybody about it, not even Steve. Okay?"

"Ok! But Y cant I tel anywun?"

"Because they might think their need is greater than mine– which it's not– and want some!"

"But Po-nee! If thay need sum, Y cant we giv them any? Theres a lot heer!"

"Yes, there's a lot, Soda, but how much will there be after I buy my sauna with built-in Jacuzzi, hmm? Face it: there's not enough to go around. Now go buy the pick axes and start digging."

"Ponychild Curtis!"

I heard Darry calling me from the lot across the street, and I quickly [well, quickly for me, at least] shoved Soda down on all fours and used him as a stepstool, heaving myself out of the hole in the porch.

Darry was stalking towards our house, and his jaw dropped when he saw me crawl out of the hole. "Ponychild Michael Curtis!"

"Yes?" I said innocently, one hand still in the hole, trying to keep down Soda, who'd stood up and was trying to follow me out. Ah, his loyalty never wavers.

"What art thou doing?"

"Just…erm…trying to see if there was any permanent damage to the porch caused by my little fall the other day."

He just glowered at me, so I said, "There isn't."

"We must hasten to prepare for the tribunal– already quarter of the eleventh hour approaches."

"Oh! Uh, okay." I snuck a peek at Soda, who was giving me a pleading, 'please let me up' look. I ignored him.

I followed Darry, who was already marching back towards the lot, where Steve was now attempting to whittle a judge's gavel. Darry made sure Steve still had all his fingers attached, then told him to 'proceed with the…ahem…magnificent duty thou art achieving.'

Two-Bit was talking to Dally, who must've shown up while I was having my little escapade under the porch. "Just let me do the talking," Two-Bit was saying. "I guarantee we'll win."

"Ponychild!" Darry snapped, and I quick went over to the desk he was standing at. "This is to be your and Johnathan's desk. I would suggest you prepare what your argument is to be."

With that he went to supervise Steve, who had almost taken off his thumb with the last stroke of the knife.

"HEY PONY!" Johnny and Soda came galumphing over, Johnny clutching the newly-snatched Puppy the cat.

"Huh, Johnny?"

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO SAY AT THE TRIAL SO PUPPY THE CAT CAN BE SAVED?"

"Um…" To tell the truth, I hadn't thought about it at all. "Uh…" I thought quickly and turned to Soda. "Soda! You're on our side, right?" Before he had time to say anything, I said, "Good. Now, if Darry asks you anything, and I mean _anything_ , all you say is–"

"The trial will commence in precisely three minutes!" Darry bellowed, and I quickly filled Soda in on what he was supposed to say, then said to Johnny, "Now look here, Johnny: during this whole thing, you're just gonna hafta sit down and shut up. I know how difficult the shutting up is gonna be, but if it comes to it, I'll just tape your mouth shut. Okay?"

"OKAY!" Johnny is the only person I know that gets excited at the prospect of getting his mouth taped shut.

Darry banged his newly-whittled gavel [it cracked down the middle] and said, "The tribunal is commencing! Everyone take your places!"

Soda an' Johnny an' me sat down on the bench behind our desk, Two-Bit and Dally sat behind theirs, and Steve stood next to Darry, who sat behind his official pulpit in front of us.

Darry cleared his throat, then nodded towards Two-Bit and Dally. "Mr. Matthews, please declare the lawsuit and provide any evidence and witnesses you have."

Two-Bit stood up and cleared his throat. "Thank you, your Honor. Your Honor, my client, Mr. Winston, has had his goldfish, Dolly, since he was five years old. But to my client, Dolly was more than just a pet: she was his closest companion. He could confide in her, knowing she would never betray him."

I knew what to do. I stood up and belted out, "Objection! Dolly _couldn't_ betray him– she couldn't speak!"

"Overruled!" Darry banged the gavel. "That fact in irrelevant to the case." He turned back to Two-Bit and nodded for him to continue.

"Thank you, your Honor. As I was saying, losing Dolly, to Mr. Winston, was like losing his best friend."

Next to me, I saw Johnny's face fall. "i thought _i_ was his best friend…" he said quietly– well, quietly for Johnny, meaning his voice echoed loudly around the lot.

Dally stood up and glared over at Johnny and didn't bother rhyming when he spoke.

"Along with Dolly, you were my best friend–

But after this, I'll never be able to look at you."

He plopped back down, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat there frowning.

"Order, order!" Darry banged the gavel again, making it crack even further. "Proceed, Mr. Matthews."

"Thank you, your Honor. I have pictures here…" Two-Bit pulled a stack of papers off his desk and held them out to Steve, who took them and handed them to Darry.

Darry flipped through them as Two-Bit talked. "As you can see, there are photos of my client and Dolly doing various activities together: going to the movies, swimming, sitting in the ice cream parlor, etcetera."

"Please make your point, Mr. Matthews," Darry said, putting down the pictures and folding his hands in front of him on the desk. "What are you getting at?"

"My point is, your Honor, to kill Dolly was murder."

If this was _Perry Mason_ , a giant gasp would've gone through the crowd.

But Darry didn't even bat an eye. "Perhaps it was. Would you like to produce any witnesses at this time?"

"Yes, your Honor– if I may question Mr. Cade?"

"Overruled!" Darry banged his gavel, and the top part almost fell off. "As he is the defendant, I cannot allow you to question Mr. Cade."

"Of course, your Honor. Then I'd like to have Mr. Randle testify."

"Objection–" Steve started to say, but Darry banged the gavel.

"Overruled!"

So Steve went over and stood in the little witness stand they'd built.

"Mr. Randle," Two-Bit said, casually strolling over to the witness stand and leaning towards Steve, "where were you on the day of the twenty-fourth?"

Steve started to fill us in on everything he'd done that day– starting from when he 'awoke from slumber'– but Two-Bit cut in.

"Where were you when the afore mentioned incident– meaning the murder of Dolly Winston– occurred?"

"I was sitting on a couch in the living room of your house," Steve said, and Two-Bit went on.

"And pray, tell the courtroom exactly what happened, starting with the Curtis's leaving."

"With pleasure. His Honor the judge stood up from the armchair and walked to the door, and Sodapop and Ponyboy followed suit. I noticed that Ponyboy stole another cookie on his way out. Then, as soon as Darrel, Sodapop, and Ponyboy stepped out of the door, I heard a strange splashing sound. Knowing the only water source in the room was Dolly's habitat, I immediately turned to it. I saw Johnathan Cade's feline, Puppy the cat, reaching a paw into the fishbowl. Before I could do anything…" he paused, and Two-Bit patted him on the shoulder and said soothingly, "I know it's difficult to talk about, but you're almost there. What happened next?"

"Before I could do anything…the feline had eaten Dolly."

"I see. And had Dolly given the feline any reason at all to bring this fate upon herself?"

"None that I saw," Steve said, and Two-Bit dismissed him with a "Thank you, Mr. Randle; that will be all."

Steve stepped out of the witness box and took his place next to Darry, who nodded at Two-Bit. "Thank you, Mr. Matthews."

Two-Bit sat back down and Darry turned towards me. "Mr. Curtis, you may proceed with your testament."

I sat up in my wheel-throne, trying to look dignified. "Thank you, your Honor." I sat there for a second. I had no idea what to do now.

So, trying to look like I was a boss at this, I said, "Your Honor, my client's cat, Puppy the cat, ate Dolly the fish. Now, I'm not admitting anything, I'm just stating the facts. According to Ste– I mean, uh, _Mr. Randle_ , Puppy the cat definitely ate Dolly."

Across the lot, I saw Two-Bit raising his eyebrows and mutter something about 'Mr. Curtis using reverse psychology' to Dally. I didn't know what that meant, so I barreled on.

"How _ever_ , your Honor, Puppy the cat cannot be blamed for his actions; after all, as a cat, he is legally obligated to eat anything smaller than him that he can get his paws on." I didn't know what 'legally obligated' meant, but it sure sounded good. Feeling much more confident, I continued. "Therefore, Puppy the cat isn't to be blamed…" I paused dramatically. "… _Dolly_ is!"

"Objection!" Two-Bit stood up and started to say something, but Darry banged his gavel.

"Overruled!"

"His fish," I said melodramatically, "by being in the same vicinity as Puppy the cat, was purposely putting itself in harm's way."

Two-Bit stood up again, but I didn't stop to let him talk.

" _However_! Dolly couldn't've put herself there; she can't move her own fishbowl. So who did? I think the answer to that question is fairly simple." I was quiet for a split second to give it a dramatic effect, then leapt out of my throne and pointed over at Dally. " _He did_! That's right, your Honor," I said confidently, "Dallas T. Winston purposefully put his goldfish in harm's way, knowing she would get eaten by Puppy the cat, so he could give Puppy the cat, who he didn't like from the start...the _death sentence_." If I had a mic, I woulda dropped it.

It didn't even have to be _Perry Mason_ ; a gasp went through our little group anyway.

I sat back in my throne and put my feet up on the desk in front of me smugly. I'd won this case and I knew it.

"Order, order!" Darry banged the gavel, and this time, the top came flying off. He stared at it for a second, then glared menacingly down at Steve, who gulped nervously.

"Mr. Curtis, have you any witnesses you would like to summon forward?" Darry asked, setting down what was left of the gavel and folding his hands in front of him.

"Just one, your Honor," I said, taking my feet off the desk and grabbing Soda's arm. "I'd like to drag– I mean, _summon_ Mr. Sodapop Curtis to the witness stand."

I dragged Soda over and said, "Mr. Curtis, will you–"

"Objection!" Two-Bit called, and since Darry didn't have a gavel to bang and tell him to shut up, he went on. "Neither Mr. Curtis _nor_ Mr. Curtis were present at the time of the attack on my client's goldfish. In my opinion, neither Mr. Curtis nor Mr. Curtis should be allowed to testify at the witness stand."

"Mr. Curtis," I said loudly, to drown out Two-Bit, "Is it your opinion that I should be able to question the witness? You can just nod," I added under my breath, and he did.

"And please tell the court _why_ I am reliable?"

"Thare iz no 1 kooler than Po-nee!"

"And there you have it, your Honor!" I belted out before Two-Bit could say anything. "That is why my testimony is reliable! That's all I have to say. Thank you, your Honor."

I started to drag Soda out of the witness stand, but Two-Bit stood up. "Objection. First of all, that is not an appropriate response for the question."

"But it's _true_ ," I muttered.

"Secondly," Two-Bit went on, either not hearing or ignoring me, "Aren't you even going to question Mr. Curtis? After all, that _is_ what you brought him up for." Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh. Uh, yeah. I mean, yes. It is. Sure." I stood there, mind blank. I hadn't actually planned on asking Soda anything about the case– after all, he knew about it as much as I did, which isn't saying much.

"Uh…"

"Your Honor, as Mr. Curtis obviously has nothing to ask the witness, I'd like to cross-examine him," Two-Bit said, and when Darry nodded, he strutted over and leaned an elbow on the witness stand. It wobbled, dangerously close to toppling over, but Two-Bit took no notice, and before I had time to yell 'objection', he said, "Mr. Curtis, would you mind telling the court exactly how you are involved in this case?"

"Thare iz no 1 kooler than Po-nee!"

Two-Bit looked slightly put off. "Excuse me?"

"Thare iz no 1 kooler than Po-nee!" Soda repeated, starting to sound like a broken record player.

Two-Bit raised his eyebrows and looked over at me. "Mr. Curtis, have you, by any chance, informed Mr. Curtis of what to say?"

"Recess!" Darry saved me (though if he knew he was helping me out, he never would have done it), and I heaved a sigh of relief. "We shall proceed with a short recess and commence the trial in precisely three minutes! I shall then deliver a verdict."

I dragged Soda out of the witness stand and over to our desk, and behind us I heard Darry and Steve trying to figure out how to fix the gavel.

"Okay, Soda," I said as we sat down next to Johnny, who was looking upset and whispering sweet-nothings into Puppy the cat's ear. "When I ask you stuff up there, you can't say 'There is no one cooler than Pony.' Okay?"

"But thats wut U told me 2 say!"

"I know– good job."

Soda beamed and I went on. "But now you can't. Got that?"

"Ok! But Daree sed he's going 2 make a verdikt! I don't think U ken ask me anything else!"

"Alright," I said, ignoring him and turning to Johnny. "Now we should probably figure out how to save Puppy the cat."

Nothing could have prepared me for Johnny's explosion.

" _ **IT'S TOO LATE! I THOUGHT YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING! DARRY SAID HE'S GOING TO MAKE A VERDICT, AND YOUR DEFENSE WAS AWFUL! NOW PUPPY THE CAT IS GOING TO DIE AND IT'LL BE ALL YOUR FAULT!**_ "

Johnny started crying, and I was shocked at his behavior. "Johnny, you could've busted my eardrums! Be more careful!"

"NO! I WON'T! I TRUSTED YOU AND YOU LET ME DOWN! NOW PUPPY THE CAT'S GONNA DIE AND YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!"

I bristled. "Well he's a mangy old thing! He's evil and probably going to keel over and die any minute anyway from malnutrition. Who cares if it's sooner than later?"

By now, Johnny was crying so hard he couldn't speak, and Soda was patting him on the shoulder and looking nervously at me.

"Po-nee–"

"Oh that's right," I cried, throwing my hands in the air, "take his side! I'm only your brother, after all! What do I matter?"

"Yeah, you're evil and probably going to keel over and die any minute anyway from un-nutrition," I heard Two-Bit say dryly, and I turned to him furiously.

"You can just shut your trap, Two-Bit Matthews, 'cause you ain't the perfect picture of health either!"

This didn't faze Two-Bit in the least. He just looked past me and said, "D'you want me to beat him up for you, Johnny?"

Johnny's sobs had subsided a bit, but he was still wiping his eyes. He glanced up at me. "NO. LEAVE HIM ALONE."

Two-Bit looked a little disappointed. "I won't even make you pay for it…"

Johnny shook his head, sniffing, and Soda handed him his handkerchief.

Puppy the cat was squinting up at me evilly and I scooted a little farther down the bench.

"Order! Order in the court!" I heard a 'squish' from up front, and I saw Darry banging the newly-repaired gavel. It looked like they'd tried gluing it together, and now it was just a sticky mess, oozing all over the Judge's desk.

"I shall now announce the vanquisher of this litigation," Darry said, squishing his gavel on the desk. "The victor is Mr. Winston and his advocate, Mr. Matthews."

I was shocked, and I heard Soda say 'gasp!' and Johnny make a strangled sort of noise.

Darry ignored us and looked at Two-Bit, who was shaking Dally's hand and congratulating him. "Mr. Matthews, please proclaim the lawsuit."

Two-Bit stood up. "Thank you, your Honor. My client is suing Puppy the cat, for the murder of Dolly Winston, the penalty of the death sentence."

My jaw dropped, Soda stopped patting Johnny's shoulder and looked at me anxiously, and Johnny burst into a fresh round of tears.

" _Or_ one million dollars," Two-Bit added, looking over at Johnny, who was sobbing and hugging Puppy the cat, and softening a bit. But not much.

Darry banged the gavel. "The defendant owes the prosecutor either one million dollars or the corpse of the feline dubbed Puppy the cat."

Johnny sopped crying. "IF I CAN GET ONE MILLION DOLLARS…" he mumbled hopefully.

Soda's face lit up. "U ken use thuh gold in thuh mine under our porch!"

"Oh no you don't, Soda!" I hissed, looking around to make sure nobody'd heard him. "I need that gold to build my Jacuzzi!"

"But Po-nee!" Soda said urgently, "We cant let them kil Puppee thuh kat!"

"We sure can!" I said.

Soda looked over at Two-Bit and Dally, then at Johnny, who was sitting quietly for once, looking scared, then glanced at me.

"Don't you dare," I said, but it was too late. He sprang out of his seat and yelled, "Dallee, U ken hav thuh 1 mill-yin dollerz!"

Two-Bit looked over and cocked an eyebrow. "And where exactly, Mr. Curtis, do you suppose you will get one million dollars?"

"I would like to know as well, Carbonated Beverage," Darry said.

I threw Johnny and Soda a warning look to let them know they should keep their big mouths shut, but Johnny just couldn't keep the secret any longer.

"IN THE GOLD MINE!" He blurted out. "THE GOLD MINE UNDER YOUR PORCH!"

Darry wheeled around to me so fast I thought he was about to do a full pirouette. "Ponychild Curtis!" he shouted. "Hast thou been digging under the porch?!"

"Thanks, Johnny," I muttered under my breath, then said to Darry. "Yeah, I have! Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I shall ground thou until thou hast fixed the hole!"

I gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"

But the look on his face told me he _would_ dare, without a moment's hesitation.

I pulled my winning card. "Then I'll run away again," I threatened.

It was Darry's turn to look shocked, but he recovered himself quickly. "Ponychild, I shall tie thou down if thou shouldst attempt to scuttle again!"

Before I had time to retaliate, Johnny started tugging on my arm and pulling me away, babbling about how we had to get the one million dollars, apparently having forgotten that he was supposed to be upset with me.

"C'MON! HEY, SODA, WE NEED YOU TO GET THE PICK AXES NOW, OKAY?"

"Ok!" Soda loped off and Johnny yanked me towards the gold mine. "AS SOON AS SODA COMES BACK WITH THE PICK AXES, WE CAN GET THE ONE MILLION DOLLARS TO SAVE PUPPY THE CAT!"

"Johnny," I said firmly, "I need that money to buy a sauna with built-in Jacuzzi. You can't use it."

Johnny stopped and stared at me, eyes wide. "BUT…BUT SODA SAID I COULD…"

"Did Soda find the gold?"

"NO…"

"Exactly. And, as the saying goes, 'finders, keepers, losers, weepers.' And that rule trumps every other rule ever. So the gold is _mine_ , not his." I smiled smugly.

Johnny's brow furrowed as he thought this through, then suddenly his face lit up. "WAIT A MINUTE! _I_ FOUND THE GOLD, REMEMBER? I WENT THROUGH THE HOLE FIRST TO GET PUPPY THE CAT AND WHEN YOU CAME DOWN I SAW ALL THE GOLD!"

Oh no. This was _not_ good. How in the world was I going to get a sauna with built-in Jacuzzi if all the gold was Johnny's?!

"But…but…" I spluttered, then I had it. "It's on my land! So it's still mine!"

"BUT YOU SAID THE RULE 'FINDERS, KEEPERS, LOSERS, WEEPERS' TRUMPED EVERY OTHER RULE!"

"Yes, it trumps every other rule, Johnny, _when it's to my advantage_. Always remember that."

"BUT IT _IS_ TO MY ADVANTAGE! SO IT WORKS!"

He really thought he could trick me out of my own gold mine. Poor, deluded Johnny.

But before I could inform he that there was no possible way on planet earth that he was going to get my gold, Soda came running back with the pick axes.

"Gosh, Soda, how'd you get those so fast?"

"Thay wer jest lying on thuh side uv thuh rode!"

Go figure.

"Well, Soda, Johnny can't have the gold because it's on our property and therefore I have a say in what happens to it. And I say he can't have it!"

Soda thought for a minute. "But if its on our land, then its Darree's and mine 2, rite?"

"Well," I said reluctantly, "yeah, I guess."

Soda's face brightened. "Ok! Then U ken hav my share uv it, Johnee!"

Johnny grinned and hugged Puppy the cat to his chest. "THANKS, SODA! I OWE YOU ONE!"

"No problum!"

So they spent the rest of the day digging up gold and I spent the rest of the day fuming.

Whatever. Soda could be a sucker if he wanted to. It wasn't my share of the gold, after all.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

By midnight, Soda and Johnny had hauled about one-third of the gold out of the tunnel and given it to Two-Bit, who rented a dump truck to put it in and had the gold weighed. Only when he had a few second opinions was he satisfied that it came out to one million dollars.

"Well, it looks like your cat gets to live," he'd told a grinning Johnny, dropping his lawyer façade and going back to normal, scheming Two-Bit.

"YEAH! AND NOW YOU'RE RICH!"

"So I guess it worked out alright in the end."

"YUP!"

And it seemed like it did: Johnny had a pet that he adored; Two-Bit was rich and couldn't wait to get richer; Darry was happy [well, happy for Darry] because now that he had one-third of the gold, he could pay the fee we'd gotten sued for and we wouldn't be evicted; Dally calmed down a bit about losing Dolly and started talking in rhymes once again; Steve was just as scientific as could be; Soda didn't seem to cry as much anymore, and I finally got around to getting Two-Bit another copy of _The Sneetches_. He made me read the ending, and I liked it, the way everything worked out between the two groups of Sneetches. I wondered if the greasers and S.O.C.K.s would ever live in harmony like that.

Yeah right.

One day about a week later, I was hanging out at the DX, the gas station where Soda and Steve work [though why anyone would hire Soda is beyond me], still a little sore about losing one million dollars in pure gold, but getting over it. After all, I still had my one-third share, and there were people coming to our house later that afternoon to put in my sauna with built-in Jacuzzi.

"Hay, Sandee!" I heard Soda say as a car pulled in.

"Hay, Sodah!" Sandy said as she got out.

My jaw dropped. No way. I couldn't've heard her right.

"Do U need yur car fixd?" Soda asked.

"Yeah! My brakes R skweeking! Ken U fix them?"

My jaw dropped again. I couldn't believe it: there was someone just like Sodapop in the world. Now I knew why he liked her…

I was still trying to wrap my head around this as they chatted and Soda fixed her car. I wasn't paying attention to their conversation, but one thing did grab my attention: "…its rilly kool! & I feel so brave wen I ware it!"

"No way!" Sandy squealed. "U hav a dragin mask U ware? I have a dinasore costoom I ware wen I want 2 feel brave!"

That was it. "I'm out!" I shouted over my shoulder as I exited the DX, but they were so deep in text-lingoed conversation, I doubt they ever heard me.

I was heading over to the movie house to see if anything good was playing [And even if there wasn't, I could still get myself some popcorn from the concession stand!] when I saw Vanilla Bean, or Cherry, or whatever she was calling herself nowadays.

"Hi, Ponyboy," she greeted me as I walked over. "Look, I probably won't have time to tell you this later, so I just want to confess something."

Here it was: she was going to profess her undying love for me, and how she couldn't live without me in her life, and that we should elope right away…or maybe she'd admit she had a crush on Dally, like I'd suspected when we were parked at that Dairy Queen.

"I just wanted to let you know that I've been…well, sort of spying on you all year."

Ah, love from afar. I opened my mouth to tell her that she didn't need to be shy, that she didn't have _too_ much competition, but she wasn't finished.

"See, your brother Darry wanted to know how you were doing in school, so he asked me to keep an eye on how you were doing, stuff like that. My real name's Cherry Valence, which is why you heard that other nurse call me that at the hospital. I introduced myself as Vanilla Bean that night at the movies because I didn't think you knew my real name– I mean, we've never talked at school or anything. I guess having an alias made it cooler to spy on you."

That sounded oddly like someone else I knew…coughStevecough.

"Anyway," Cherry went on, "I just figured I'd let you know; I'd feel bad keeping it a secret for the rest of my life."

Well that sure wasn't the love-confession I'd been expecting. "But how comes you're telling me now? You're still in school. Aren't you gonna spy on me next year?"

"Well, I just finished my senior year, and– don't tell anyone this, okay?– Bob and I are eloping."

My jaw dropped. She was supposed to elope with _me_! "But…but…"

"Yeah, I know, we're only eighteen, but it's true love." She sighed dreamily and patted me on the head. "You'll understand one day, Ponyboy. Well, I better get going. Thanks for being such an interesting person to spy on!"

With a wave, she was gone.

That night I moped around while Soda made dinner. Darry'd decided that we were all going to start eating healthier, so Soda made green pancakes. I wish I could say it was food coloring, but it was actually spinach that gave them the sickly puke color.

After dinner we all agreed that green pancakes, however nutritious, weren't going to do our health any good if we couldn't stand to actually eat any.

Then Darry and I got into an argument because I wanted to go to Dairy Queen and get some real food, and Darry wouldn't allow it.

"What's all the fuss about Dairy Queen anyway?" I finally shouted. "It ain't your restaurant because Rome E. Oh stole it from you, so it's not like you can tell me if I can go there or not!"

"I most certainly can and shall tell thou if thou shall be permitted to venture to Dairy Queen or not," Darry shot back. "As I am the guardian of thou, ye shall do as I say. Iffest thou liketh it not, ye may surely abscond."

"Maybe I will!" I shouted back, having no idea what in the heck that meant.

"Hay!" Soda suddenly said, and we looked over at him. He looked upset. "Y do U 2 hav 2 fite all thuh time?"

"Well…" I looked over at Darry, who also seemed to be at a loss for words. "Well, we got nothin' better to do."

"U kood reed a book, or U kood play a game, or U kood get a job," Soda pointed out. "I dont like it wen U fite, b-cuz U get lowd, and I don't like lowd noises." His eyes were filling with tears. "Pls dont fite anymore."

I looked over at Darry, who sighed.

"I suppose we shall strive to dispute no longer…or at least keep our volume minimal," he said, and Soda grinned.

"Thnx!"

Darry gave a forced smile, and, in a moment of obviously overwhelming affection, patted Soda on the shoulder.

I went up to my room still starved from that wannabe meal Soda'd made, and pulled a chocolate bar out from under my mattress. I always kept a stash in case of times like this.

Suddenly I heard the front door open and Dally's voice saying cheerfully,

"I just wrote a song;

You have to listen and sing along."

He went on to sing a song he'd written about some girl named Sylvia.

"Who's Sylvia?" I asked, coming downstairs to see him standing on the coffee table, belting his heart out.

He stopped singing to answer my question.

"I met her a few months ago,

And now I really truly know

That she's the one for me.

She likes to rhyme and she'll always be:

My sweetheart Sylvia!"

He sang that last line and went right back into the song again.

I rolled my eyes and went back upstairs to finish my chocolate.

The next day Soda and I went with Steve to the hospital again. Steve wanted to look into getting a job there, but, while he was the most scientific person I've ever met, he wasn't trained in medical stuff, so they turned him down.

We were walking out, feeling dejected [well, Steve and Soda were feeling dejected– I was feeling hungry], when one of the nurses caught up to us. She looked about Steve's age, and I realized she was the one that had informed Cherry of the break-out in room four-oh-three.

"Did I perceive you say you desired to study how to be a physician in the medical field?" She asked Steve, and I groaned. It was like Soda and Sandy all over again, only scientific, not slang.

Steve brightened at this fact. "Yes. However, though I know much about science, I am not a major in the medical department."

"If you like, you can come back tomorrow and observe me or another physician doing check-ups and surgeries and learn from that," the nurse said.

Steve brightened. "Then I shall return tomorrow!"

"Simply articulate to the nurse at the assistance counter that I stated that it was acceptable for you to view us undertaking our responsibilities."

"And whom shall I say informed me of this?"

"Evie," Evie said, sticking out her hand, and Steve shook it.

"Ah! My name is Stephen Randle. However, Homo sapiens call me Steve."

"Then I will converse with you tomorrow, Steve."

And that's how Steve met Evie.

I figured with Dally and Soda and Steve all getting girlfriends, I'd get one sooner or later, but that didn't happen. I guess they're all just too shy to talk to a macho, tuff, handsome guy like me. There was that one girl that showed a little interest…but maybe she was just impressed that I was the hot-dog eating champion of Oklahoma five years running.

I mean, who wouldn't be impressed with a thing like that?


	12. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Well, looking back on all that, I can laugh. We've all changed, some of us more so than others.

I mean, Darry decided that cooking wasn't all it was cut out to be and opened his own hair salon named 'Tuff Cuts'. He gets a lot of customers too, which is funny, 'cause the only haircut he knows how to do is bald.

Dally is a singer, and his one-hit wonder is titled 'Dolly My Dearest'. Sylvia does the back-up vocals, and a lot of the music comes from them tapping on different-sized fishbowls.

Soda married Sandy, and they had a double wedding with Steve and Evie. They were going to have a triple wedding with Dally and Sylvia, but Dally got booked for a concert and couldn't make it. Soda is a kids' toy-tester [the manager said he's the best tester they've had in years], and Sandy works at Jurassic World, a theme park that opened up not too far from where they live. She wears her dinosaur costume to work every day.

Steve managed to pick up on a lot of medical stuff by watching all the doctors perform surgeries and stuff, but when he fainted during an open-heart surgery, he decided to just stick with being a regular scientist and a spy on weekends. Evie's still a nurse, though. I hear she works in the morgue [aka oversized kitchen] sometimes…I'll have to get her to cook me something really good from there one day.

Johnny is a speech therapist and he works at an animal rescue on weekends. He's single, but he says he'll never need a significant other as long as he has Puppy the cat to keep him company, and that mangy thing hasn't shown any signs of getting old yet.

Two-Bit is a travelling salesman [most of the stuff he sells he finds on the side of the road], and he owns a big pawn shop in the middle of town that he's got about twenty employees for. He lives in this big mansion, and we all go up and visit sometimes and have a big party. Darry always cooks, and the food's always a bomb.

As for me? Well, I'm happy to say that I've changed my ways a bit. I've learned that everyone's equally important and it's not all about me– that's what I learned from _The Sneetches_. Oh, you want to know what I do for a living? Well, d'you see that good-looking, in-shape track star standing next to his lovably chubby coach? That's right; I'm the coach.

The end


End file.
